Millie Vanilla’s Cupcake Caf?

Millie Vanilla’s Cupcake Caf? Georgia Hill Baking, broken hearts and beach weddings…it’s all happening in the gorgeous little seaside town of Berecombe this year!Millie Vanilla’s Cupcake Caf? is struggling as a multi-national chain of caf?s moves in on its territory. Despite baking up a storm in a bid to save it, Millie’s distracted by falling head over heels for the gorgeous, mysterious Jed.As the seasons change in Berecombe, the loveable, quirky locals rally round Millie, and in return find their own happy ever afters. Millie’s delighted for her friends, but when she discovers Jed’s been keeping secrets, she faces a new dilemma – is it finally time to hang up her apron and start an exciting life somewhere new? Or is everything she’s ever wanted right under her nose, just waiting for her to reach out and take it? A division of HarperCollinsPublishers www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk) Copyright (#ulink_f8eff3f7-6ed5-52d9-9361-db32d470e61d) HarperImpulse an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk) First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2018 Copyright © Georgia Hill 2018 Cover images © Shutterstock.com (http://Shutterstock.com) Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018 Georgia Hill asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Source ISBN: 9780008212162 Ebook Edition © January 2018 ISBN: 9780008222178 Version: 2017-10-17 Dedication (#ulink_8beefed2-d1df-5fbc-83ca-c3751dc1d477) To the people and town of Lyme Regis, Dorset. Thank you for the fabulous holidays. Contents Cover (#u360fd42a-982f-5513-ab32-5d7cf7c8301a) Title Page (#ue4ca85a3-d797-5314-82cc-8dc0e039ace4) Copyright (#u7d9a9890-439f-597a-bf72-0f9a866add86) Dedication (#u84b8865c-03fb-5270-a8af-a04ff03cd186) Spring Beginnings (#u091e1bb7-cbf9-59cb-b523-38a2bc14b08f) Summer Loves (#litres_trial_promo) Christmas Weddings (#litres_trial_promo) Acknowledgements About the Author About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo) Spring Beginnings Contents Chapter 1 (#uc84e292c-bec5-5e2d-b76e-22da40570236) Chapter 2 (#u7c7e6d4f-908f-5ba9-923f-5fb947dab55d) Chapter 3 (#u652abe3f-9e77-5a02-9ae2-6f14274e6814) Chapter 4 (#u82672dd7-be34-510b-bc9f-30488c38d61c) Chapter 5 (#ua14ca668-4377-5689-ab33-1db2af34913a) Chapter 6 (#u9f2fd6cc-0b54-515c-9d73-bb2a660855ff) Chapter 7 (#u94a995d1-14f7-5f51-acb6-418e2af80cc3) Chapter 8 (#u6d19d254-295f-5feb-adab-6741626a2e12) Chapter 9 (#uac3b1ce2-f6fd-5b49-9a14-9c23517eaeb9) Chapter 10 (#u5faf6835-1619-5ccf-ac2f-11daa560a73d) Chapter 11 (#ud0e77134-20e2-54de-8ba9-8c50784736b1) Chapter 12 (#ud678dafb-ed84-578c-856e-4d50147e7e1f) Chapter 13 (#u7f446325-c186-50f0-96cc-bd426bcf86c2) Chapter 14 (#u4062de53-5590-500d-9f38-5cb7677db821) Chapter 15 (#uc4f27bcd-efe2-5f62-b1f0-ccdba3d9b88e) Chapter 16 (#u8cf9845f-44aa-50a1-85f8-aee67f81bbde) Chapter 17 (#u1f8da532-09b3-57eb-be83-9e758d7febdf) Chapter 18 (#u3bc44a90-e586-5300-838d-4e4e8547979c) Chapter 19 (#u7dc22cfc-b753-573b-a448-4ccf58e06cf9) Chapter 20 (#u4a55a00b-7e9a-5291-a523-a7e587031016) Chapter 21 (#u461d35d9-c08d-5aa0-a0b8-2bdc5cafb0eb) Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter 1 (#u08bb6896-9b2e-51e4-8a91-0d13b06c0a4b) Millie wiped the table and then straightened to enjoy the view. Millie Vanilla’s Cupcake Caf? must have one of the best in Berecombe. Situated halfway along the flat promenade leading to the harbour, its wide windows looked straight out onto the seas of Lyme Bay. And what a view! Now, in early January, a chill bit into the wind and the light was crystal clear, making the azure blue of sea and sky deeper and rain-washed. One or two gulls wheeled about in the light breeze, chattering to the skies. Even though she’d lived in the little flat above the caf? all her life, Millie would never tire of how beautiful her home town was. She carried the tray, full of empty plates and mugs, back to the kitchen and began washing up. Some people might say she was mad to stay open in the winter. All the other caf?s and restaurants in this part of town were firmly shut up until March. Even the chip shop only opened on weekend nights. But Millie loved this time of year. Yes, it was dark in the mornings, but the winter winds whipped up the sea into towering waves and she fed off the energy from a good storm. There was nothing more exhilarating than a walk along the promenade watching the waves tear into the beach and being deafened by the roar. She frothed the washing-up water in the sink with enthusiasm. Yes, there were only a few people about but she’d pick up a bit of trade from the literary festival later in the month. Besides, there were always one or two weekenders wanting a good foamy latte. There were all her regulars too. Biddy, with Elvis the poodle, would be along in an hour and Zoe and her friends would pop in for hot chocolate; fresh off the school bus and wanting a place to gossip in until it was time to go home. During the low season, Millie relished the luxury of having lots of time to talk to her customers. ‘And besides, Trevor,’ Millie called through the kitchen door to the cockapoo snoring in his basket by the radiator, ‘What else would we be doing? I can’t knit and daytime telly bores me rigid.’ The dog, worn out from his run on the beach, didn’t grace her with an answer. The familiar jingle-jangle of the bell on the door alerted her to a customer. Wiping her hands on her apron – hand sewn by Biddy and turquoise-blue and pink to match the decor – Millie grabbed her pen and order pad. There was a stranger sitting at the best table, next to the middle window. A man and alone. It was unusual. Not many men came into the caf? in the afternoons. She had a few who popped in for breakfast, but men weren’t usually, in her experience, afternoon-tea-and-cake type of people. ‘Hello there,’ she said, pinning on a welcoming smile, ‘What can I get you?’ The man lifted his face from the menu and gazed at her. He had dark eyes and blond hair. A striking combination. He was about her own age and very, very attractive. ‘Good afternoon.’ Cultivated voice. Expensive-sounding, to match his heavy overcoat. Millie glimpsed a snowy white shirt underneath, with a red tie and charcoal-grey striped suit. Definitely not her usual sort of customer. Perhaps he’d got lost on his way to the Lord of the Manor Hotel? It was far more exclusive and upmarket than Millie Vanilla’s. ‘What cake do you have?’ Millie relaxed a little. This was much safer ground than dwelling on how hot he was. ‘I’ve some Victoria sponge and a coffee and walnut cake. I also have a light fruitcake, which is iced, and freshly baked scones with jam and cream. Clotted, of course.’ ‘Of course.’ He smiled back. Millie’s heart did a flippoty-flop and her knees weakened. The smile transformed his features. He was gorgeous! Trevor, as if aware of his mistress’s agitation, stirred in his basket and gave a little snuffling snore. The stranger looked at the dog’s wicker basket. ‘You allow dogs in the caf??’ Millie stiffened. No one criticised her caf? and certainly not her dog. ‘He’s allowed in the seating area, but nowhere near any food preparation.’ She jerked her head towards the kitchen. ‘And, as you can see, there’s a door separating the two parts of the caf?. We’re very dog-friendly in Berecombe. Always have been. Lots of visitors bring their pets with them on holiday and want to eat out with them. In the better weather we have tables outside on the sun terrace and, of course, there are no restrictions on dogs out there.’ ‘Ouch.’ ‘Excuse me?’ ‘I’ve obviously touched a nerve. I apologise.’ That devastatingly charming smile again. Millie felt the tension leave her shoulders. He hadn’t meant to criticise after all. ‘No, it should be me apologising. It’s a defence I have to produce every now and again.’ ‘And you find it’s better for trade to have dogs in?’ Who was he to be asking all these questions? Suspicion prickled. ‘I do. There’s always the occasional customer who prefers to eat without having a dog around, but most people, even if they don’t have one of their own, actually like it.’ ‘Good. Interesting.’ This was getting weird. ‘Now, what can I get you?’ Millie asked bracingly, to avoid further interrogation. ‘I suppose I’m too late for lunch?’ ‘Not at all. I’ve some curried butternut squash soup and homemade bread. Or a sandwich on granary?’ ‘The soup sounds wonderful. I’ll have that. And a piece of the Victoria sponge for pudding. Oh – and tea.’ ‘I have Earl Grey or English Breakfast. The Breakfast tea is from a local Devon supplier and is particularly good. Or I have a variety of fruit and herbal teas.’ ‘English Breakfast it is, then. Thank you.’ ‘Thank you. Won’t be a minute.’ As Millie prepared his meal, she couldn’t resist sneaking peeks through the porthole window in the kitchen door. Who was he? Health and Safety? One of those secret review customers? Someone from the tourist board? He’d slipped off his overcoat and she’d been right about the suit. Very well cut and fitted to his long legs. No, he couldn’t be any of those. No tourist-board official had ever looked that beautiful. Did people really have cheekbones like that? Trevor, she saw, to her intense annoyance, was now nosing around and making friends. She’d expected the stranger to bat him off but he was tickling Trevor’s golden ears, to the dog’s great delight. And dogs were supposed to be loyal! Looked like Trevor couldn’t resist a handsome man either. Feeling more than a little flustered, Millie put the soup on to heat and took over a tray with teapot, milk jug, cup and saucer. ‘What pretty china,’ the stranger exclaimed. ‘I like the way it’s all mismatched but goes together so well.’ Millie’s suspicions grew. He looked around him with open admiration. ‘And I love the turquoise starfish and pink shell mural. You’ve obviously thought a great deal about the image for this place.’ Millie hadn’t. She’d got her best friend’s husband to paint it colours she liked and the china choice was forced on her by economy. She’d picked up a load at a car-boot sale. Was he being sarcastic? ‘Thank you.’ She forced a smile through gritted teeth. ‘I’ll just go and get your soup.’ Again, Millie watched avidly as the stranger examined his cup, turned the handles of the teapot and hot-water jug this way and that and lifted the saucer to examine the maker’s mark. The delicate flowery pattern should have looked ridiculous in his long-fingered grip, but it didn’t. Who was he? There was one way to find out. She carried his soup and bread over, determined to ask questions, only to be thwarted as Biddy came in with Elvis. Shaking sea spray off her woollen beret, the elderly woman said, ‘Afternoon,’ in her over-loud voice. Millie served the stranger his meal and noticed with amusement that Biddy was glaring at him. He was in her favourite seat. Biddy settled noisily at a table nearer the kitchen and made a great fuss over taking off her coat and settling her poodle. Realising the interrogation would have to wait, Millie went over to her. ‘Your usual, Biddy?’ Millie didn’t need an order pad for this customer. Biddy always had the same thing. ‘My usual,’ the woman barked. ‘What else? A coffee and scone. And a shortbread for Elvis.’ ‘Coming right up.’ Millie made sure she was facing her as she spoke. Biddy was really quite deaf but could lip-read. When she chose. Millie tried to be charitable and sympathise with how frustrating it must be but suspected Biddy’s permanently bad mood was nothing to do with her hearing loss. ‘How’s Elvis today?’ Normally Millie would fuss over Biddy’s hearing-assistance dog but she was too aware of the stranger. He seemed to be watching everything that was going on. ‘Upset, that’s what he is. That bitch has been after him again.’ Millie sensed rather than saw the stranger’s shoulders tense. ‘What, Arthur Roulestone’s retriever? She’s as quiet as a mouse.’ ‘Not when she catches sight of Elvis, she isn’t. I swear he makes her randy.’ ‘Oh dear,’ Millie murmured. ‘Just as well he doesn’t have the same effect on Trevor.’ They looked to where the dogs, having had a sniff to say hello, were now studiously ignoring one another. ‘Yes well,’ Biddy sniffed. ‘Folks ought to control their dogs, especially when they’re around others that work.’ Out of the corner of her eye, Millie saw the stranger’s shoulders quiver. Was he laughing – or about to complain? He’d been friendly towards Trevor, but maybe two dogs in a caf? was too much? As far as she knew, Arthur’s Daisy never had the energy to raise her head, let alone pester a poodle a quarter of her size, but she supposed Biddy knew what she was talking about. ‘I’ll just get your coffee.’ Unfair though it seemed, maybe today wasn’t the day to let Biddy sit in a corner with Elvis nursing a solitary cup for an hour or two. The sooner she served her, the sooner she might leave. Taking Elvis with her. Millie immediately felt guilty. Why shouldn’t Biddy take as long as she wanted? The caf? was hardly busy. It was just this stranger. He made Millie uneasy. In lots of ways. She busied herself in the kitchen, served Biddy, gave Elvis a homemade dog biscuit and took away the stranger’s empty soup bowl. ‘That was absolutely delicious.’ He gave her the megawatt smile again. ‘Is it really homemade?’ ‘It is.’ ‘By you?’ ‘By me. As is the sponge cake.’ ‘Then I can’t wait!’ He was being friendly. Saying the right things. Even Trevor, tart that he was, liked him – and she trusted Trevor’s opinion implicitly. But still, there was something not right about this whole encounter. She couldn’t quite place what it was. Maybe she was just unused to dealing with men who made her hormones fizz? ‘I’ll go and get it.’ The sooner he ate and left the better. Then things might get back to normal. She might get back to normal. ‘Could I trouble you for some more boiling water?’ ‘Of course,’ she breathed. Bugger. He was going to linger. As she served him, Zoe and her collection of friends clattered in, bringing the fresh January cold with them. They deposited their school bags and coats in a pile and slumped onto their usual corner table, phones in hand. ‘Hiya, Mil,’ Zoe called. ‘Hi, girls. Hot chocolate?’ ‘Hot chocolate,’ they chorused back. ‘We’ve had PE,’ Zoe explained further. ‘Had to run around the field for hours. Supposed to be cross-country training,’ she added gloomily. ‘You poor things. I remember it well. Extra marshmallows, then.’ ‘Thanks, Millie,’ came another chorus and they disappeared into scrolling down the screens of their phones. After distributing mugs of hot chocolate, liberally laced with marshmallows and cream, Millie glanced around. Against the silvered light of the winter afternoon Biddy sipped her coffee, one hand protectively on Elvis’ black woolly head and Zoe and the gang were giggling over something on their phones. There was a comfortingly warm fug in the place. She sighed with pleasure; she loved this little caf? and cherished its place at the heart of her community. Then she noticed the stranger pushing away his empty cake plate. ‘May I have my bill, please?’ ‘Right away.’ Millie had already prepared it. She couldn’t wait to get rid of him. He glanced at the amount and paid cash. ‘So, you’re Millie?’ he asked, putting a note on the saucer. Blimey. More questions. She forced a friendly smile. ‘I am.’ ‘And you own Millie Vanilla’s?’ ‘I do.’ ‘Great name, by the way.’ ‘Thank you.’ In a bid to encourage him to leave, Millie picked up his payment, her eyes widening at what he’d tipped. As he stood up and put his coat back on, she noticed he towered above her. Another point scored. She liked tall men. ‘That was really delicious food. And you’ve got a marvellous place here.’ ‘Thank you,’ Millie repeated. Why didn’t he just go? ‘I hope I can find the time to come back.’ As he went out, Clare, Zoe’s best friend, wolf-whistled. The dogs’ noses shot up at the sound. ‘Who was that?’ she asked, her eyes like saucers. ‘He’s gorg!’ ‘And totally too old for you,’ Zoe replied. Clare rolled her eyes. ‘I so totally don’t care.’ Zoe craned her neck to view him as he sauntered along the prom. ‘Nice bum.’ Millie giggled. ‘That’ll do, Zoe. I’ve told you before to stop ogling the customers.’ ‘Hope he comes in when I do a shift on Saturday, then. He can have my extra-extra-special service.’ She waggled her eyebrows comically. ‘Oh, Zoe,’ Millie put her head on one side with pretend concern. ‘Whatever has he done to deserve that?’ Clare poked her friend in the ribs and cackled. ‘Yay, Millie’s got you there, Zo.’ Something drew Millie to the door. She watched as the man strode towards the harbour, the low sunshine lightening his blond hair. He had a loose-limbed style that was very sexy. Confident, assured of his place in the world. Arrogant almost. As if sensing he was being watched, he turned back to the caf? and raised a hand. Millie ducked out of view, blushing furiously. She still hadn’t a clue who he was. Chapter 2 (#u08bb6896-9b2e-51e4-8a91-0d13b06c0a4b) Millie didn’t have long to wait until the gorgeous stranger returned. He came in a few days later on a bright, cold morning when the wind whipped up white horses. ‘Good morning again,’ he greeted her cheerfully. ‘Morning.’ He extended a hand. ‘As I know your name, I think I’d better introduce myself. Jed Henville.’ ‘Nice to meet you.’ Millie wiped her hand unnecessarily on her apron (bright pink with turquoise stars today). ‘Emilia Fudge. But everyone calls me Millie.’ She waited for the laugh. For a quirk of amused eyebrows. For the jokes over her name being as sweet as her cakes. None came and she blushed with gratitude. This guy had class. ‘What can I get you today?’ Jed grimaced. ‘I shouldn’t have anything, really, as I’ve just had a rather mediocre English cooked breakfast. But when I was in the other day, I couldn’t help but notice you do raisin toast. It’s my all-time weakness. Is that homemade too?’ ‘Alas, I can’t lay claim to being a bread-maker. My pal Tessa makes all the bread I serve in here. But it’s very much made in her home. She’s a fantastic artisan baker. I’ll get you some of her fabulous raisin toast, then, shall I? Would you like some coffee with that?’ Millie smiled and wondered where he’d eaten his very ordinary breakfast and if he’d shared it with anyone. Who was he and why was he in Berecombe? It was a sleepy place and not considered as trendy as Lyme Regis, further along the coast. At this time of year any stranger stood out a mile, especially one as good-looking as him. ‘Thank you. I’d love a large latte. It’s cold today; I need warming up!’ Taking off his stripey scarf, he settled at the same table he’d sat at the other day and spread out a broadsheet newspaper. He was less formally dressed today, in dark moleskin jeans and a buttery suede jacket. With his out of season suntan, he looked just as buttery and edible himself. So he was in need of being warmed up? Millie could think of one or two things that might do it. She gave herself a shake. Honestly. Grow up, woman! She was as bad as Zoe and her gang going weak at the knees at the sight of a hot man. She ran into the kitchen and put herself to work as a distraction. The morning passed peacefully enough. Jed had eaten his toast and drunk his latte with enthusiasm, declaring both delicious and had thrown on his scarf and jacket and departed. As she cleared his table, Millie was prevented from watching where he was headed by the arrival of Arthur Roulestone, breakfast regular and owner of Daisy, Elvis’s arch enemy. ‘Morning, my dear,’ he called, as he came in with the puffing retriever in tow. He followed her look. ‘Stranger in town, then?’ ‘Morning, Arthur.’ Millie picked up the tray and paused, with her bottom pushed against the kitchen door. ‘You don’t happen to know who he is, do you?’ ‘No idea.’ He tapped his nose cheerfully. ‘I can keep my ear to the ground for you, though.’ ‘Thanks.’ Arthur was a member of Berecombe’s town council. What he didn’t know wasn’t worth knowing. ‘Your usual?’ ‘Bless you. A trifle chilly out there today.’ ‘Isn’t it just? But I love these crisp days,’ Millie shouted from the kitchen. ‘I’ve heard we might have snow later.’ ‘Snow?’ Millie put the tray down on the draining board and poked her head out of the door. ‘It never snows here. We don’t even get so much as a frost.’ ‘Not strictly true. I can remember it snowing one winter when I was a boy. Covered the beach. Magical. Funnily enough, I always find it’s the coldest just before we get the first of the spring days.’ ‘Some warmer weather would be welcome and good for business too. But snow, eh? How exciting! Must have been years ago. Before my time.’ ‘Thank you for reminding me what an old codger I am.’ ‘Sorry, Arthur. Extra sausage? And one for Daisy as an apology?’ ‘Accepted with pleasure. Organic sausages from Small’s farm, I assume?’ Millie nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Arthur went over to the table Jed had just vacated. ‘Ah,’ he called through to her. ‘I see your mysterious customer has left his newspaper. I might just have a quick look.’ He bent and picked it up. ‘Oh, how disappointing. The Financial Times. Not quite my choice of reading matter on a Friday morning.’ His brows rose over his steel-rimmed specs. ‘Might be a clue to his identity, however! A businessman, perhaps?’ ‘Perhaps.’ Millie stepped around Daisy as she brought over Arthur’s mug of tea. ‘Strong builder’s as usual.’ ‘Bless you, my dear.’ ‘And how’s the old girl?’ She bent to tickle Daisy’s ears. ‘I hear she’s been annoying Elvis again.’ ‘Well, at least it shows there’s some life left in her. She’s getting on a bit now. Like me.’ Millie saw emotion contort Arthur’s face. She straightened. ‘Oh Arthur, you’ve both got years ahead of you yet.’ Goodness knows what the old man would do when Daisy went. They were devoted to each other. ‘And if she can still chase after a poodle, there must be hope.’ ‘Indeed. However, I fear Biddy does not quite see it that way. And Elvis is an assistance dog. Daisy shouldn’t interfere when he’s working.’ ‘I think they’re secretly very fond of one another,’ Millie said, reflecting that the same could be said of their bickering owners. ‘And don’t worry, Biddy’s fine. Never happy unless she’s got something to moan about.’ ‘As my granddaughter Zoe would say, ain’t that the truth?’ Laughing, Millie went to get his breakfast ready, confident her cooked English could never be described as mediocre. Chapter 3 (#u08bb6896-9b2e-51e4-8a91-0d13b06c0a4b) Early on Saturday morning, when the sun was just rising over the bay, Zoe crashed in to begin her shift. ‘Like your hair, Zo. What colour is it this time?’ Zoe pulled a lock of her purple fringe and went cross-eyed looking at it. ‘Plummy Aubergine.’ ‘Nice. Although I quite liked the shocking pink.’ ‘Mum didn’t,’ Zoe said gloomily as she tied on her apron. ‘And school hated it. Threatened to suspend me if I didn’t tone it down.’ ‘And Plummy Aubergine counts as toning it down?’ Zoe scuffed her platform trainers. ‘Mmm.’ ‘Well, this is an important year for you. Getting your grades for university and everything.’ Zoe pulled out a chair and collapsed onto it, looking morose. ‘Yeah, well, don’t know if I actually want to go.’ Millie paused while refilling the cupcake-shaped sugar bowls. Taking the seat opposite Zoe, she sat down and took the girl’s hand. ‘What’s all this about, then, my lovely?’ Zoe gave an enormous sigh. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Just think there’s more to life than batting off horny undergrads and saddling yourself with a humungous debt.’ Millie tried to keep a straight face. ‘Well, there’s certainly more to university than that.’ ‘You know what I mean.’ ‘But it’s what you’ve always wanted.’ ‘Is it?’ Zoe looked up and Millie was shocked to see tears in her heavily kohled eyes. Usually the girl was breezily happy and uncomplicated. Her choice of alternative image being the notable exception. ‘Isn’t it?’ Millie hid her shock. Zoe was an extremely bright girl. University had always been the goal. ‘It’s what Mum and Dad want me to do. Have always wanted me to do. And Granddad.’ Arthur would be devastated. Zoe was his only grandchild and he doted on her. ‘You need to do what’s right for you, my lovely.’ Zoe pouted and moodily traced the flowery pattern on the oilcloth. ‘You didn’t go, did you?’ Millie resumed filling the sugar bowl. ‘No,’ she said carefully. ‘But that was different. I had the caf?.’ ‘That your parents ran?’ Millie nodded. ‘Until they died.’ She bit her lip. ‘Aw, I’m sorry, Mil. For making you remember.’ Millie nodded. ‘Well, some things are difficult to talk about still.’ ‘Even after all these years?’ ‘Even after all these years.’ ‘That A35. It’s a death-trap,’ Zoe said viciously. Millie rose. ‘It is.’ ‘There was another accident on it last week. Friend of Clare’s mother. But no one was seriously hurt.’ ‘Well, road accidents happen all the time, don’t they?’ Millie clasped the bag of sugar to her as a shield. ‘Now,’ she said, with a forced brightness. ‘We’d better get ourselves ready; we’ll have a few frozen weekenders in, no doubt.’ ‘Yeah, okay.’ Zoe got up and followed Millie to the kitchen. ‘Sorry.’ Millie turned to her in surprise. ‘Whatever for?’ ‘For doing a downer on you.’ ‘Oh, Zoe!’ Millie put the sugar down and gave her a hug. ‘You know you can talk to me. Any time. About anything.’ ‘I know.’ ‘Just think carefully about your future, won’t you? You’re such a clever girl. You could do anything and everything you want.’ ‘Meaning university?’ ‘Maybe university, if that’s what you really want, but so much more too.’ Millie released Zoe and gave her a grin. ‘Come on, let’s grab a coffee before the Saturday rush starts. I’ve made some millionaire’s shortbread. Fancy some?’ Zoe rolled her eyes and giggled. ‘Is the Pope Catholic?’ ‘Is he? I’ve no idea. Pretty sure he wouldn’t approve of Plummy Aubergine, though.’ Millie tweaked Zoe’s fringe. ‘Showing your age, Mil.’ ‘Cheek. I’ll have you know I still have a two in it. Just about.’ Zoe grinned. ‘Yeah, that’s what I mean. Pos-it-ive-ly ancient. Totally past it, girlfriend.’ Millie grabbed a tea towel and snapped it at Zoe’s rear. ‘You, young lady, may not live long enough to get as far as my shortbread. Into that kitchen and begin work this minute.’ ‘Gawd. Thought the days of child slave labour died out with Dickens,’ Zoe said good-naturedly and skipped ahead of Millie and into the welcoming scents of a kitchen, which produced heavenly little squares of chocolate and caramel on shortbread. Chapter 4 (#u08bb6896-9b2e-51e4-8a91-0d13b06c0a4b) It was cold and still dark as Millie walked briskly up Berecombe’s steep main street to the post office. Millie was used to early starts. She’d been getting up at five all her working life. True, getting up at the crack of dawn was far more pleasant in the summer months. But even at this time of year she delighted in the muffled, secretive quality the town had when few others were around. She kissed each letter as she posted it, wishing it a safe and speedy journey to its destination, then turned and walked back down the hill. As she did, she passed the old bank building. The closing of Berecombe’s only bank had caused huge distress, especially among her older customers. Not used to online banking and unwilling to trust it, they were now having to go into Honiton or Axminster to do any banking business. More alarming for Millie, a lot of them, having made the journey, were staying on there for coffee and lunch. She’d lost quite a lot of trade that way. She bit her lip; she might have to rethink one or two things to keep her going through to the busy summer season. She just wished she knew what. She paused to study the elegant Georgian facade. The building work had been going on for some time now and no one seemed certain about what was going to open. All sorts of rumours abounded. At the moment, its windows were resolutely boarded up and hostile- looking, giving away no secrets. She shivered in the sea fog that was yet to go out with the tide. It really had been a long, dismal winter. The promised snow hadn’t appeared but she hoped Arthur was right when he’d said spring was on its way. Walking fast, she clicked her tongue at Trevor to follow and made her way home. As she unlocked the caf?, her best friend Tessa arrived, carrying a tray of freshly made breads. ‘Alright then, our Mil?’ she called out in her broad Brummy tones. ‘Got you a load of granary, a couple of white bloomers and fruit bread. That should see you through.’ Millie eyed it thoughtfully. She would have to freeze a lot of it. ‘Should see me through a few days the way business has been lately.’ She held open the caf? door and Tessa followed, putting the heavy tray down with a sigh of relief. ‘That bad, eh? Time of the year, though.’ ‘Hopefully. Got time for a coffee?’ ‘Always got time for one of your coffees, bab.’ Tessa plonked herself on the chair nearest the kitchen door and shouted through. ‘Looks crackin’ in here.’ Then she fell silent as her phone pinged and she scrolled through a message. Millie came through with a cafeti?re and plate of biscuits and joined her. ‘Zoe touched up some of the paintwork on Saturday as we went a bit quiet. She’s a good girl.’ Tessa put down her phone and looked around. ‘Always loved this pink and blue theme Ken did.’ She watched as Millie poured the coffee. Ken was Tessa’s artist husband. She had met him while on holiday, fallen in love and, three children later, was still in Devon. ‘How did his show go?’ Millie yawned and stretched out her long legs. She slipped off her Uggs and tucked her feet underneath each other. Glancing at Tessa she thought her friend seemed unusually tense. Tessa pulled a face. ‘Okay, but we only sold a few paintings. And that gallery in Exeter charges a fortune to host an exhibition. Don’t think we covered our costs, to be honest.’ ‘That’s a real shame. You’d both worked so hard on it. Here, have a gingerbread man. I made them last night.’ Millie pushed the plate over. ‘I hadn’t realised they charged.’ Maybe that was the reason for Tessa’s mood. ‘Oh yes, they charge alright.’ Tessa snapped a biscuit in half viciously. ‘We’ll have to find somewhere else to do it next time. Maybe provide our own fizz. Got to find a way to cut costs,’ she waved a gingerbread man leg in the air, scattering crumbs. ‘Otherwise it just ain’t worth doing.’ ‘Can you do another in the summer, when there are more people around?’ Tessa shrugged. ‘Maybe but holiday-makers don’t want to buy Ken’s paintings. Too big to get in the back of the hatchback to trek up the M5, like.’ Millie put down her half-eaten gingerbread man; she’d lost her appetite suddenly. It wasn’t like Tessa to be so negative. Something else must be worrying her. ‘These would be better iced, I think.’ ‘Why don’t you do them to match the caff? Blue and pink buttons!’ ‘I might just do that.’ Millie laughed, relieved her friend sounded momentarily brighter. She reached for her coffee. ‘Speaking of colour, Zoe’s got purple hair at the moment.’ ‘Love that girl!’ Tessa nodded. ‘Yeah, Ken said as much. She’s been hanging round the studio a bit lately.’ ‘She’s having a crisis over whether she wants to go to uni to study English.’ Tessa nodded again. ‘Ken says she’s got real artistic talent. You should see the water-colour sketches she does; they’re ace.’ ‘Maybe that’s what she really wants to do? Probably doesn’t want to let her parents down, though. Under all that punk make-up and fluorescent hair, she’s a softie. Wants to keep them happy.’ Tessa pointed a stern finger. ‘Yeah, but what does she want? Going off to study books for three years isn’t going to make her happy. All she’ll end up with is debt.’ ‘That’s exactly what she said to me. It’s awful that kids have to think like that.’ ‘Well, Ken reckons she ought to get herself to art college.’ Tessa pulled another face and spread her arms. ‘And not going to uni didn’t do us any harm, did it?’ Millie raised her eyebrows. ‘No. We’re just sitting here at six in the morning, wondering how best to make ends meet.’ ‘Yeah, well,’ Tessa got up. ‘A poxy English degree ain’t necessarily going to fix that. Agreed?’ ‘Maybe.’ Millie grinned. Tessa’s antipathy to academia stemmed from disappointment in her eldest son. Sean had little scholarly ambition. The Tizzards’ hopes were now focused on their middle boy. Just as Tessa got to the door, she turned. She hesitated before speaking. ‘Have you heard what’s going into the old bank building?’ ‘No, what? I walked past there earlier but there was no clue.’ Millie began clearing their plates and mugs. Tessa took a breath. ‘It’s another caff, Mil. I’m sorry, kiddo.’ ‘A caf??’ Millie sank back onto her chair on suddenly weakened legs. Another caf?. Coming to Berecombe. And opening up as a rival. She looked around at the sunny turquoise walls, the fairy lights, encased in feathers and twinkling, lovingly put up by Zoe. The tray of tempting breads waiting to be eaten. The tables scrubbed and laid ready for her customers to flock in. Except they hadn’t exactly been flocking in recently, had they? And with competition opening up, it could just about sound the death knell for Millie Vanilla’s. Oh God. ‘Sorry, Millie,’ Tessa repeated. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. School run. Laters, bab.’ She disappeared before Millie had the chance to answer. Chapter 5 (#u08bb6896-9b2e-51e4-8a91-0d13b06c0a4b) Arthur wandered in later than usual and, very unusually, without Daisy. He rejected a cooked breakfast and sat morosely nursing a solitary mug of tea. In sympathy, Trevor whined and squatted at his feet, but was ignored. When Millie spotted Biddy pushing open the door, with a cheerful Elvis in tow, she feared the worst. She was in no mood for squabbling pensioners this morning. ‘You’re early, Biddy. What can I get you?’ ‘It’s allowed, isn’t it? Being early. Not a crime. And what else do I ever have? The usual, please.’ Muttering to herself as she worked in the kitchen, Millie wondered if Biddy got on with anyone. Maybe it was the low, dull clouds? It seemed to be putting everyone in a bad mood today. As she warmed up Biddy’s scone, Millie could already hear her bickering with Arthur. Biddy was moaning that yet another restaurant was opening up in town. Her heart sank. She brought out Biddy’s coffee and scone, served it and retreated behind the counter, pretending to polish some glasses. ‘For once I agree with you,’ Arthur went on. ‘And it does the town no favours to have these businesses open in good faith, only to have one poor season and close down again.’ ‘Hmph,’ Biddy snorted. ‘Don’t see it happen in Lyme.’ Arthur sighed. ‘Lyme Regis has always been a special case as it’s so popular. And Berecombe’s not doing too badly, really.’ ‘But you’ve still let this new caf? open.’ Millie stiffened. ‘Apart from myself, the town council were in agreement. Blue Elephant is an international chain. The council felt, with the backing of a big company behind them, it might help the caf? stay open and provide some continuity. And that’s quite a large building to pay rates on. Only a big organisation like that could afford it.’ Millie found the leg of the stool behind the till and dragged it over using her foot. Blue Elephant! She collapsed onto it. It couldn’t be much worse. They were huge in the States and had just started to open branches in the UK, rivalling Costa and Starbucks. They were a Fairtrade company and committed to using organic supplies. With their muffins, granary sandwiches and coffees they’d be in direct competition with what she did at Millie Vanilla’s. Even worse, the backing of a large corporation meant buying in bulk across their outlets and almost certainly undercutting her prices. She felt sick. ‘But the council is still letting this Elephant place go ahead?’ Biddy asked through a mouthful of scone, scattering crumbs. ‘I’m afraid so, Biddy.’ ‘What did you say? ‘Speak up, man.’ ‘I said, yes I’m afraid so,’ Arthur repeated. Biddy snorted again. ‘I will endeavour to put forward your feelings at the next council meeting.’ In answer, Biddy slurped her coffee. Silence fell, only interrupted by whimpers coming from a now dreaming and kicking Elvis. Arthur, sensing their conversation was at an end, came to the counter and paid the exact amount in cash as he always did. ‘I’m sorry, dear girl,’ he whispered, ‘that I couldn’t tell you sooner. About this Blue Elephant business. It was all a very hush-hush affair.’ Millie nodded mutely and watched him as he left. Trevor followed him to the door and whined. After hearing the dreadful news Millie wanted to join in. Chapter 6 (#u08bb6896-9b2e-51e4-8a91-0d13b06c0a4b) To her relief, business picked up a little at Millie Vanilla’s over the next few days. The literary festival brought a smattering of people into town. Millie stayed open on the nights events were held and did a roaring trade in warming pea and ham soup and her rich apricot and almond tray bake. She liked the lone customers who came in, pored over a book in a corner and demanded constant tea and coffee. The festival was designed to bring some trade into town in the quiet days after the Christmas season and it was working. Along with the Yummy Mummies Plus One Dad Group and her other regulars, the W.I. Knitting Circle and the Berecombe B.A.P.S (the Berecombe Appreciation of Paperbacks Society), she was kept busy. Tessa popped by one evening with her two youngest boys. While the children took Trevor for a run on the beach, she tucked into the apricot cake with relish. ‘Oh,’ she sighed, ‘you should definitely make loads more of this. It’s bloomin’ gorgeous.’ She looked up as the door opened. ‘Hello, our Sean.’ Her eldest son stood in the doorway looking coy. ‘Hi, Mum.’ A possible reason for his embarrassment arrived a second later. Zoe, this time with bleached-white hair, fell into the caf? behind him. ‘Oh hello, Mrs Tizzard.’ ‘Zoe, me lover, told you before, call me Tessa. Grab a pew. What are you having?’ ‘Well, we’re not stopping. We’re just on our way to the poetry reading in the theatre.’ Tessa’s shoulders quivered with barely contained laughter. ‘Poetry reading? Not usually our Sean’s thing.’ As an answer Sean grunted. ‘You forgot your scarf on Saturday, Zoe,’ Millie interrupted, to save him further embarrassment. ‘And would you like your wages while you’re here?’ ‘Aw thanks, Mil. I can get Mum her birthday pressie later. There’s a craft fayre on in the theatre afterwards. She said she’d seen some nice earrings she’d like.’ ‘That Susie Evans does some nice stuff,’ Tessa pointed out through a mouthful of cake. ‘Tell her I sent you and she’ll give you a bit off.’ ‘Oh and she can have a free coffee next time she’s in,’ added Millie. ‘Thanks, Mrs Tizzard, I mean Tessa. And thanks, Mil.’ Zoe wound the scarf around her neck and stuffed her wages into the battered satchel she used as a handbag. ‘You coming then, Sean?’ Sean, who was looking longingly at the half-eaten slice of cake on his mother’s plate, snapped into attention and opened the door. ‘See you later, kids,’ his mother cackled. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!’ Millie pressed a couple of slices of cake, wrapped in a serviette, into Sean’s hands. She winked at him in sympathy. ‘Bye both. Oh and Zoe, think I preferred Plummy Aubergine!’ Sean scowled at his mother, Zoe waved a cheerful goodbye and then they strode off along the promenade, arm in arm, heads close together. Millie served scones and tea to a group deep in argument over the latest Booker prizewinner and then joined Tessa. ‘Is there something going on between those two?’ Tessa exploded into laughter. ‘Bloody poetry. Our Sean? I ask you!’ She shook her head in answer. ‘Who knows? If there is, it’s news to me. Thought they were just friends. Wouldn’t mind a bit, though. Zoe’s a lovely girl. And she’s a good influence on Sean, not counting this sudden passion for poetry.’ ‘But isn’t he going to work at that picture-framing company in Honiton?’ ‘Yes, bab, it’s all set up. It’ll suit him. Says he’s had enough of exams to last a lifetime. He’s never been the most academic of my three. Unfortunately. What of it?’ ‘Just that it might explain Zoe’s sudden cold feet about going to Durham.’ Tessa looked to where, illuminated by the white lights strung up all along the promenade, she could see her eldest walking with his arm around Zoe’s shoulders. They stopped for a moment to take the inevitable selfie and giggled at the result. ‘You mean, young love? Sweet.’ ‘And intense. You never feel the same as you do when you’re in love at seventeen.’ Tessa pulled a gloomy face. ‘Don’t know. It was so long ago I can’t remember.’ Millie laughed. ‘Don’t get me wrong, your Sean is gorgeous. But –’ ‘If you had the choice between love and a degree from Durham?’ Tessa asked. ‘I think I’d choose Durham.’ Tessa shoved in the last of her cake. ‘That’s what’s wrong with you, Emilia Fudge,’ she said through a full mouth, ‘there’s no romance in your soul. When was the last time you had a hot lover on your arm?’ ‘Don’t know. It was so long ago I can’t remember.’ She winked at Tessa. Tessa sniggered and got up. ‘Better go and rescue Trevor from the boys. He’ll have had enough by now. I’m amazed they can see anything on the beach at this time of night.’ ‘Oh, the lights on the prom reach out quite a way.’ Millie stretched her back. It had been a long day. Tessa observed her friend with affection. ‘You look knackered. It really is about time you had some fun, my girl.’ Millie gave a wry smile. ‘You tell me when and who with and I’m all for it. Not sure how I’ll squeeze in a hot man, though. I work all day and bake all night. And I don’t know about fun, but it would be lovely to have someone special to share my life with. I get lonely sometimes.’ Tessa nodded. ‘I understand, kiddo. You can have all the friends in the world and still feel lonely without a special person to come home to.’ She was silent for a moment and then added, ‘Come here.’ ‘What for?’ ‘Come here,’ Tessa repeated and beckoned Millie to where she was standing by the big picture window. When Millie obeyed, she turned her to face it, standing behind their joint reflection and putting her hands on her friend’s shoulders. ‘Look at you.’ Millie looked. And pouted. ‘You’re right. I look knackered.’ ‘Dead right you do. You’re tired because you’ve just done a fourteen-hour day.’ ‘Your point being?’ Millie was embarrassed, aware that the literary festival group were watching with interest. ‘Behind the tiredness, I see gorgeous big brown eyes, that lovely dark hair and legs that I’d kill for. Don’t let life be all about work, Millie. Go and find yourself that man. You want marriage, babies, the whole enchilada, don’t you?’ Millie nodded, her eyes filling with tears that she put down to exhaustion. Tessa had a point. It had been months since she’d taken any time off. She tried to see herself objectively. Yes, her make-up had disappeared hours ago and while her bob had grown out, her hair was still thick and glossy. Her legs, toned by a lifetime of being on her feet waitressing, were encased in matte-black tights, their length revealed by the flippy short skirts she favoured. Not too bad, she ventured. She bit her lip. ‘But where am I supposed to find a man, let alone some fun, Tess?’ Tessa made a face. ‘God knows. Pick up a tourist? Or what about that bloke who keeps coming in? The one that Zoe keeps going on about. Wears all that designer gear – Hackett, she reckons it is. Another word for expensive, in my book. Oh, I don’t know where you’ll find him but get out there, kiddo. Take some time out. Forget the ruddy caf? for five minutes.’ ‘And there’s me wanting to be the next Mary Berry.’ ‘Wash your mouth out. There’s only one Mary Berry!’ Tessa put her hands together as if in prayer. ‘Saint Mary!’ Millie giggled. She could always rely on her friend to make her laugh. ‘Love you, Tess. Now go and find my dog.’ ‘Will do. Love you too, honeybun. Tarra a bit!’ Chapter 7 (#u08bb6896-9b2e-51e4-8a91-0d13b06c0a4b) Millie bumped into Jed as she was hurrying up Berecombe’s steep main street. Literally bumped into him. Tessa would say it was fate. Millie would say it was because she had her head down against the icy wind blowing sleet against her face and didn’t see him coming the other way. Oomph. Her library books slid onto the pavement as they collided. Trevor barked with excitement. ‘Here, let me.’ Jed bent down and collected them for her. ‘Hello, Trevor,’ he said, fending him off as the dog tried to lick his ear. ‘Middlemarch and James Joyce,’ he read as he handed them back to her one by one. His eyebrows rose. ‘Interesting reading.’ Millie blushed. ‘I didn’t go to college, so I’ve been trying to catch up on some books everyone tells me I ought to read.’ She held up Moby Dick. ‘This was for Book Club.’ ‘How did you find it?’ ‘Excruciatingly boring.’ Jed laughed. ‘My thoughts exactly. I always had a bit of a thing for Mrs Gaskell. Maybe you could try her? Look, I think you’re out of luck trying to return them tonight, the library’s just closed. I passed it on my way down. Lights off and doors definitely locked.’ ‘Oh.’ Millie’s face fell. ‘I hadn’t realised it was so late.’ ‘I hope you’ll avoid a fine? I have to confess it’s been a long time since I borrowed a book from a library. Do they still do that?’ Millie nodded. ‘I’ve got until tomorrow.’ She sighed. ‘I’ll have to try to find time to return them then.’ Jed peered closer. ‘If you don’t mind my saying, you look rather done in.’ ‘The caf?’s been busy with the literary festival. I’ve been rushed off my feet.’ ‘Well, it’s good that you’ve been busy. Have you finished for tonight?’ Millie thought of the batch of Bakewell tarts she should get in the oven and of the apricots she needed to soak before making another four lots of the tray bake. Jed filled in the gap left by her hesitation. ‘If you have, may I suggest getting some supper in the White Bear? I hear their food isn’t too bad.’ ‘The food in there is lovely.’ Millie hopped from one foot to the other. She was freezing. Her nose was like ice. The thought of hot food in the company of an even hotter man was tempting beyond belief. Tessa’s words from the other night reverberated. Since when did she have gorgeous men asking her out to eat? Since when had she had some fun? Sod it, she decided, the customers would have to make do with scones tomorrow and she had some tea bread she could defrost. Some nice salty farmhouse butter would make it special. ‘I’d love to,’ she smiled up at him. ‘What about Trevor?’ ‘Oh, he hasn’t eaten either.’ Jed laughed. ‘That wasn’t quite what I meant. Do they allow dogs in the White Bear?’ Millie nodded, as much to keep warm as to answer. ‘Oh yes, in the public bar, anyway. It’s cosy in there too; they’ll have a roaring fire going.’ ‘Sounds perfect. Shall we?’ He held out an arm and Millie took it. ‘Let me,’ he added and relieved her of the books. ‘Perhaps we can dissect Herman Melville some more?’ ‘Blimey, could we not?’ Millie, very aware of how close he was, giggled. She leaned nearer, thinking that he smelled heavenly. She breathed in spice and lemon. It wasn’t dissimilar to the cardamom lemon-drizzle cake she made sometimes. ‘Maybe stick with Gaskell, then?’ They retraced her steps back down the hill, the sleet now at their backs, making their passage easier. Unusually cold weather aside, Berecombe looked beautiful. White lights strung across the narrow shopping street blew gently in the salt-laden breeze coming off the sea. Most shops had closed by now but had kept their window displays lit against the deep indigo of the night. It was postcard pretty. Millie was overcome by a wave of affection for her home town. She’d never lived anywhere else and had never wanted to. Never needed to. She’d had everything she ever wanted here. Until recently. Risking a glance at Jed’s profile, she wondered how long he was going to stay around. With his long upper lip and sharp cheekbones, there was definitely something of the Eddie Redmayne about him. He was posh-boy gorgeous. She breathed out a white cloud of hot breath in longing. He looked down at her. ‘Cold?’ Millie nodded. ‘Freezing. Spring can’t come soon enough. You?’ ‘God yes.’ He pulled up the collar of his overcoat. The wind had whipped high colour into his smooth, tanned complexion. The line where his skin met the deep black of his coat made Millie’s insides melt with tenderness. ‘The Bear’s just down here, isn’t it?’ When she didn’t answer immediately, he said, ‘Millie?’ and looked penetratingly at her. He put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her closer. ‘Warmer now?’ Don’t gaze into my eyes like that, Millie begged silently, and then forced herself to get a grip. ‘Um yes, thanks. And the pub’s just along the passageway off the high street.’ She clicked her tongue at Trevor and pointed the way. ‘I love these small towns. So complete in themselves.’ There was yearning in Jed’s voice. ‘A couple of pubs, some caf?s and restaurants. Enough shops to buy what you need but not necessarily what you want. A strong sense of community. Have you always lived here?’ ‘Always.’ ‘And you never wanted to leave? To live somewhere else?’ Millie shook her head as best she could against his shoulder. ‘No. As you say, everything I need is here. I’m really happy living here. Settled.’ Or I was until recently, she added to herself. She stared up at him. How can I long for a man I know nothing of? But I do. I long, long, long for him. ‘Where do you live, Jed?’ ‘Me? Here and there. Hotels mostly. I go where the work is. I move around so much there seems little point in settling anywhere permanent. Occasionally I rent an apartment, but that’s rare. I’m in London mostly. New York sometimes.’ ‘And you go wherever the company you’re working for is?’ As an answer, he nodded. It all seemed impossibly glamorous to Millie. And alien. She couldn’t imagine the life he had. Trevor halted to sniff at something interesting, forcing them to stop. Jed turned to face her. ‘But nowhere I’ve lived has had quite the same appeal as here.’ He came closer, only a breath apart. ‘You have a tiny bit of sleet on your eyelashes,’ he said and, with the gentlest of touches, he smoothed it off. He was very close. If Millie reached up an inch, she could kiss that mouth, with its generous upper lip, could caress that square chin, nuzzle against his strong throat. ‘I thought it was never supposed to be this cold at the seaside,’ he murmured, his eyes locked on hers. ‘It isn’t usually.’ Her eyes dropped to his mouth again. She ached to kiss it. ‘It might snow, they say. At the seaside, it’s a once in a lifetime experience.’ Like this man. She had the strongest instinct she would never meet his like again. Trevor, oblivious to what was going on above him, tried to trot off and yanked at the lead in Millie’s hand. ‘It’s too cold to stand around, anyway,’ she breathed and wondered if she saw regret in Jed’s dark eyes. Chapter 8 (#u08bb6896-9b2e-51e4-8a91-0d13b06c0a4b) The White Bear was packed with early-evening drinkers and with those having come into town for the festival. It exploded around them as a colourful warm fuzz in contrast to the chilly monochrome outside. Dean the landlord spotted Millie and said he could find them a table in a corner, away from the loudest of the revellers. When she thanked him, he simply shrugged and added that it was the least he could do for someone who made the best flapjacks this side of Weymouth. After letting Trevor drink his fill from the bowl of water at the door, they threaded their way through and settled on an old church pew in front of a tiny table. There was only just enough room if they sat tightly thigh to thigh. Millie found she didn’t mind one little bit. Trevor tucked himself underneath and collapsed with a sigh as Dean brought over their drinks. ‘Half a Thatcher’s, Mil, and the gent requested a pint of the local beer.’ He put the cider and the pint of Black Ven onto the table. Without ceremony he barked out, ‘Two steak and ale pies do you?’ Millie hardly had time to reply, ‘Yes please,’ before he disappeared back behind the bar. ‘I hope that’s alright for you?’ she asked Jed, who was eyeing his glass suspiciously. ‘Sounds delightful. Not sure about the beer, though.’ ‘It’s a porter, a dark beer,’ Millie explained. ‘It’s brewed in Lyme Regis, not far away.’ Jed took a cautious sip. ‘It’s good.’ He took another. ‘No, really very good.’ He leant back against the pew, making it creak. Looking around at the worn slabs on the floor, at the two-foot thick whitewashed walls, at the heavy beams, he sighed with pleasure. ‘This place is great, isn’t it?’ ‘It is.’ ‘So, you know about beer too?’ Millie grinned, thinking that beer probably wasn’t his usual tipple. ‘Only the local stuff. I make a mean porter and chocolate cake with it.’ Jed groaned. ‘Chocolate cake? I think I’ve found my perfect woman!’ When all Millie did in response was blush, he added, ‘Is there anything you don’t know about around here?’ ‘Well, I’ve lived here all my life, so I ought to.’ To hide her pleasure at his compliment, she sipped her cider and then said, ‘Where did you grow up?’ ‘Oh, here and there. Family’s R.A.F. so we moved around a lot. I got sent to boarding school when I was eight.’ ‘Eight?’ Millie was appalled. It was the same age as Tessa’s youngest son. ‘That seems very young.’ ‘It does, I suppose,’ Jed said cheerfully. ‘But when your family moves so much it gives you some stability. Most vacs I didn’t make it home; I even spent some Christmases at school. Don’t look so horrified. I had some very jolly times with Matron’s family.’ ‘Matron? Matron! Where did you go – Eton?’ Jed gave her a rueful grin. ‘Somewhere like that.’ Bloody hell. Bit different to Berecombe Comp. Millie gulped down more cider. ‘I can’t imagine spending Christmas anywhere else but home.’ ‘Is that what you do?’ Millie nodded. ‘Or I used to. Now I go to my friend’s. Only for lunch, though. Trev and me, we have a good, long walk on the beach first and then get over to Tessa’s just in time for the present opening. She’s got three boys, so it’s great fun.’ ‘You don’t have parents?’ Jed noticed the change in Millie’s expression and added, ‘I’m so sorry, that was intrusive.’ ‘No, it’s alright. It used to be me, Mum and Dad, but they died in a car crash eleven years ago. Since then, I’ve always gone to Tessa’s.’ Jed put his hand on Millie’s. ‘Now I really am sorry. I had no right to butt in on your most personal memories. Your most painful memories.’ His hand was very warm and firm and Millie’s senses danced at his touch. It swamped the inevitable stab of grief. ‘It’s fine,’ she said quickly. ‘It was a long time ago. As the caf? was owned by them, it seemed the right thing to take it over and run it myself.’ ‘And you’ve done that ever since? You must have been very young at the time.’ ‘Yes, I suppose I was. Just about to go away to university to read English Lit.’ ‘Ah. Hence the books.’ Millie nodded again. She was blurrily aware she was getting drunk quite quickly and hoped their food would arrive soon. ‘Hence the books. Trying to catch up a bit. Maybe I’ll try your suggestion of Mrs Gaskell.’ Jed nodded. ‘She’s slightly more fun than Melville. So you gave up your place at uni and stayed here instead and worked at the caf?? That’s amazing, Millie.’ ‘Oh, I don’t know about it being amazing. In a strange way it kept me closer to them. It helped me, you know, being busy, doing what they’d always done.’ Jed took another sip of his beer. ‘I can quite see that. I think it’s one of the bravest things I’ve ever heard.’ There was a beat before he added, ‘You must have seen a few changes in the town.’ Perhaps Jed was attuned to her distress or maybe he’d simply wanted to change the subject. Either way, Millie was glad the conversation had taken a more casual tone and agreed. ‘Oh yes. We went through a phase of being popular with surfing dudes; there was a time when the pound was weak and the ferries brought the French and Dutch over in droves and the last invasion was a hippy group who camped out on Mill Field for the summer. They’ve got some sort of commune Honiton way now. As we’re the next stop along from Lyme, we get the visitors who can’t find anywhere to park there and find us instead.’ ‘So there’s a lot of tourist trade in the town?’ ‘There can be. If we have a good season. If the weather blesses us. And families seem to be rediscovering the traditional English seaside holiday again.’ ‘Sandcastles on the beach?’ Millie laughed. ‘Don’t scoff! That sort of thing, absolutely.’ Jed spread his hands. ‘I wouldn’t dream of scoffing, as you so delightfully put it. It sounds wonderful. I’ve never had that kind of holiday.’ Millie gave him another shocked look. Christmas spent with Matron and no beach holidays; what sort of childhood had he had? Her heart exploded with protectiveness for a little boy, no doubt privileged, but who hadn’t seemed to have had the most basic of childhood pleasures. ‘At the next opportunity we’ll make sure we go on the beach and make the biggest, sandiest sandcastle you’ve ever seen.’ ‘Even if it snows?’ ‘Especially if it snows!’ Jed clinked his glass against hers. ‘You’re on!’ They smiled at one another, aware of the delicious, dizzying fizz of emotions rushing between them. Of the happy sliding into lust. Of maybe edging, blissfully, into something more meaningful. The moment was only interrupted by Dean slamming their food onto the table in front of them. Chapter 9 (#u08bb6896-9b2e-51e4-8a91-0d13b06c0a4b) For the first time since taking over the running of her caf?, Millie resented the early start. When her phone buzzed and Debbie Reynolds trilled, ‘Good morning, good morning!’ she snapped it off and put her head back under the duvet. Instead of getting up in the dark, walking Trevor and getting the caf? ready, all she wanted to do was relish the evening she’d spent with Jed. To pick over every moment. Pulling her knees up she hugged them to herself with glee. It had been the perfect evening. Enclosed in their cosy corner, it was as if they were in a happy little bubble all on their own. Jed had eaten with gusto, declaring his steak pie the best he’d ever had and ordered another pint of beer. They’d talked – about his childhood spent all around the world, but mostly he’d asked about her. Millie hadn’t had anyone so interested in her for, well, she couldn’t remember. So used to listening to Biddy moan or Arthur give a weather forecast or Zoe bang on about school, it had been exhilarating to talk about herself for a change. Jed had been an amazing listener, hanging on her every word. It had been immensely flattering. Millie hadn’t missed the covetous glances from the other women in the pub either. She didn’t blame them. Jed had looked positively edible in skinny jeans and a blue-and-white-striped rugby shirt. He had insisted on walking her the short distance back to the caf? and to the steps at the side that led to her flat. It was about as romantic a night as could be. The sleet had stopped. All that was left was a crystal-cold night sky over an inky calm sea. No moon but a sprinkling of stars hanging over a just-visible, rolling coastline. In the distance, the Portland lighthouse beam appeared and dipped from view. There were few other people around and no need to hurry. As Jed and Millie walked along, arm in arm, the sea shifted and sighed, as if indulging in the romance of it all. If Millie had been hoping for – or expecting – a goodnight kiss, she was disappointed. After a sort of mock salute, Jed had walked off along the promenade into the night, his broad shoulders making a triangle of his coat as he tucked his hands inside his pockets, pulling it tight across his hips. Millie had watched his blond head, made paler by the white lights strung from lamp post to lamp post, disappear around the corner to the hill leading to the shops. Her breath puffed out in a frozen cloud as she rested her chin on the handrail to the steps. She clung on to the metal for dear life. It was the only thing that stopped her from running after him. It had been one of the best nights of her life. Millie hugged her knees again and giggled to herself. She knew she was acting like a lovelorn teenager but it was such a novel and delicious feeling to like and be liked back that she couldn’t help herself. Enjoying the champagne fizz of emotions inside, she rolled over onto her back and listened to the sea crashing outside. She must have dozed off because she was woken by Trevor’s impatient barking, ordering her to let him out. When she clocked the time, she gave a frantic yell at how late she’d slept. There was no more time for dwelling on mysterious handsome men with melting brown eyes. Arthur was her first customer. He turned up just as Millie was unlocking the front door and flipping the sign to, “Come in for gorgeous cakes.” She’d given Trevor the most cursory of runs on the beach and had got most things ready for another day at the caf?. The breeze coming off the sea was gentler this morning and there was a brighter blue in the sky. Even the aubrieta, cascading down the low wall that separated the caf?’s sun terrace from the beach, had greened up. Was it too much to hope that spring was in the air? One look at Arthur’s distraught face had all thoughts of Jed and the softening season taking flight. He came in, again without Daisy, but followed closely on his heels by Biddy and Elvis. ‘I’ve been calling you all along the prom,’ the elderly lady yelled at the unfortunate man. ‘Where’s Daisy?’ Ignoring Biddy, Millie steered Arthur to his table in the window and sat him down. She feared the worst. ‘Cup of tea, Arthur? Or maybe a pot?’ At his nod she smiled and wasn’t reassured to see tears gleam behind his spectacles. To her surprise Biddy joined him, sitting opposite. Millie’s heart sank. Biddy wasn’t the easiest company and her tactlessness was legendary. ‘I said, how’s Daisy? Fern at the vet’s said she was in there.’ ‘Biddy,’ warned Millie. Arthur cleared his throat. ‘It’s alright, Millie. You may as well both know, the vet found a tumour. Daisy’s got to have an operation.’ ‘A tumour? That doesn’t sound good.’ Biddy sniffed. ‘Biddy!’ Millie rolled her eyes. ‘What? No point beating about the bush, is there?’ Millie supposed there wasn’t. Concerned that Biddy might upset Arthur further, she rushed to the kitchen, made a pot of tea as quickly as she could, threw a few pastries onto a plate and joined the pensioners at their table. ‘You know I always drink coffee,’ grumbled Biddy. ‘Well, just this once you can have tea.’ As the woman began to moan, Millie cut her off with, ‘Don’t worry, it’s on the house.’ There was a silence as Millie doled out mugs and plates and offered round the cakes. She sneaked a dog biscuit to Elvis, who had retreated under the table and was sitting on her foot. ‘Go on, Arthur,’ she encouraged when he at first refused. ‘Try a bit of this tray bake. I soak the apricots in brandy to give them extra flavour.’ ‘Brandy, I ask you!’ Biddy spluttered. ‘You’ll never make a decent profit by doing that sort of malarkey, young lady.’ ‘Maybe not, but it goes down a storm and I only make it at this time of year.’ So put that in your pipe and smoke it, she added silently. ‘Not keen on brandy, me,’ added Biddy taking a huge mouthful and chewing with enthusiasm. ‘So, Arthur,’ Millie resumed, ‘Tell us all about Daisy. That’s if you can, of course.’ She put a hand on his and was distressed to feel it tremble. He took an enormous breath and began to talk. Turned out Daisy had been under the weather for a while and, on a regular visit for her jabs, the vet had felt a lump on the dog’s stomach. ‘I don’t know how I could have missed it!’ Arthur cried. Millie pushed a mug of tea towards him. Biddy pursed her lips. Millie braced herself for some kind of accusation or dire warning from the old woman. Instead she said, ‘Easily done. And some of them tumours grow fast. Besides, Daisy’s got such a thick coat, would’ve been easy to miss.’ Millie looked at Biddy in gratitude. She was being quite nice! ‘I had a goldie years ago,’ Biddy went on. ‘Just like your Daisy. Had her when I was doing my last job. Too busy rushing round the place. Missed a lump just under her ear.’ ‘But she was okay, wasn’t she?’ asked Millie, praying Biddy had some consolation for Arthur. ‘Oh no. Turned out to be malignant. Had to have her put down. Upset all the girls, it did. Mind you, she was knocking on for twelve.’ Millie winced. Biddy’s rare tactfulness had been short-lived. Arthur drank some tea. ‘Good age for a goldie,’ was all he said. Biddy nodded. ‘You do what you can, don’t you?’ she boomed. ‘But there’s only so much you can do.’ ‘What’s going to happen?’ Millie pushed the plate of cakes Biddy’s way in the hope of shutting her up. ‘They’ll have to conduct some tests, I expect, see what it is and we’ll take it from there.’ ‘You got insurance?’ Biddy asked. Arthur nodded. ‘But only up to a certain amount. If Daisy needs a very expensive operation …’ his voice trailed off. ‘Was going to say, I can always cough up a bit if you haven’t. What you looking at me like that for, Millie? We dog-owners got to stick together in times of crisis.’ Arthur dislodged Millie’s hand and reached over to Biddy. ‘Dear lady, that is a very kind thought.’ Millie looked from one to the other in amazement. Their usual enmity had been completely forgotten. Sliding off her seat she left them to it, praying Daisy would be in the clear – and that Biddy wouldn’t say anything more to upset Arthur. Chapter 10 (#u08bb6896-9b2e-51e4-8a91-0d13b06c0a4b) It was the middle Saturday in January and Millie was going stir-crazy. She needed fresh air. She closed the caf? early and sent Zoe home. It had been quiet anyway since the literary festival had finished. She decided to drive into Lyme Regis. She had Tessa’s birthday present to buy and a sudden need to do some pottering around the town’s quirky shops. It was one of those wonderful gifts of a day at which her part of the coast excelled. Spring really did seem just a few days around the corner. The sky was an optimistic shade of clear blue and you could smell the changing season lilting in on the gentle breeze from the sea. Millie wondered if her thick Guernsey might be a mistake, but it had been her dad’s and wearing it filled her with happy memories of him. She found a parking space and eased her wheezing Fiesta into it, ignoring the sounds it was making. Repairs meant more expense, and money was short. The much-needed refurb of the caf? might have to wait. ‘Can’t afford to do both, Trevor my lad,’ she said to the dog. ‘Maybe we’ll start doing the Lottery again?’ She took the dog to Church Beach for a run around and laughed as he scampered in circles, high on the new smells. Finally, when he’d had enough, he came back to be put on the lead. ‘And now for some real exercise, Trevor.’ She pulled a face. ‘How to spend as little as possible on a pressie without looking mean.’ Trevor’s only response was a little whine and a regretful look back at the beach as they made their way to the shops. Two hours later and an exhausted cockapoo and an over-heated Millie sat on a bench on the Bell Cliff tucking into a pasty. ‘Well, I think we’ve done okay, Trev,’ Millie said as she blew on her pasty to cool it down. She pulled off an edge of pastry and gave it to him. ‘That “Don’t Disturb Me, I’m Baking” mug is perfect for Tessa.’ She giggled. ‘She’ll love how it plays the theme to TheGreat British Bake Off.’ ‘Talking to yourself, Millie?’ It was Jed. Millie jumped a foot. Trevor lunged with a bark and her carrier bag slithered to the ground. ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Here, let me.’ Replacing the shopping on the bench, he sat down. ‘What are you doing sitting out here? Enjoying the sunshine?’ Millie waved her pasty at the sea. ‘I’ve been shopping and got rather warm. Wrong clothes choice,’ she explained further. She squinted at the sun. ‘Besides, it’s a glorious day and you can’t complain about the view from here.’ Jed took off his Ray-Bans and grinned, showing even, white teeth. He pushed his sunglasses onto his head. ‘Can’t believe you can get days like this in this country – and in January. It’s glorious!’ ‘I think spring will be early this year. Quite often is around here.’ Jed sat back, taking up most of the room on the bench. ‘And I wouldn’t dream of complaining about this view. It’s fantastic, isn’t it?’ Millie nodded and, feeling self-conscious about eating something so messy in front of him, wrapped the remainder of her pasty back into its paper bag. ‘You can see Portland today. That’s the bump of land far out to the right of the coast. And the sun’s just coming onto the red cliffs at West Bay, look. That’s where they film Broadchurch. And the highest bit of the coast is –’ ‘Golden Cap. I know.’ ‘Sorry, was I being boring? Too much of a tour guide?’ Millie deflated. ‘Millie, you’re never boring. It’s just that I know Lyme a bit. Ma and Pa had a holiday cottage near Dorchester for a couple of summers.’ ‘Oh. I thought you said you’d never had a beach holiday.’ ‘And I never have. Mum didn’t like the mess everything got into with sand. So we did days out, the museum here in Lyme, the tank place over at Bovington, that kind of thing. My brother and I liked it best when we had a day by the pool, though.’ ‘You had a pool? A swimming pool?’ Jed nodded. ‘Yes, for a while it was great. Alex and I spent all day splashing about in it. Mum got bored, though, after a few years and bought something in France.’ ‘Like you do.’ Jed didn’t seem to notice her mild sarcasm and answered cheerfully enough, ‘As you do. She’s sold that now. A restless spirit is my mother. She mentioned she’d quite like a pied- ?-terre in Lyme, so I’ve just been pressing my nose against the estate agents’ windows.’ ‘Along with everyone else, I would imagine.’ Jed laughed again. ‘Oh yes. I had quite a crowd to fight my way through.’ ‘Lyme’s very sought-after. It’s the thing to do when coming here. Gaze at the houses for sale and gasp at the ridiculously high prices.’ ‘Actually, I didn’t think they were all that bad; certainly not compared to London.’ He stretched his legs with evident enjoyment and nodded at the view. ‘And you can see why it’s so popular. I wouldn’t mind living here myself. Have you had much success with your shopping?’ Millie was about to launch into how difficult it was trying to be generous with a limited amount of money, but didn’t feel someone who accepted Lyme’s property prices so glibly and had a mother who bought and sold holiday cottages on a whim would empathise. ‘Oh yes,’ she nodded. ‘Think I’ve got what I wanted.’ She looked at his bright-orange puffa jacket and at the collar of his rugby shirt, snowy white against his tanned skin. Who was sun-tanned in January? She spotted the gleam of an expensive-looking wristwatch and the designer logo on his coat. He was a creature from a very different world to hers and her little caf? in Berecombe. She wondered, fleetingly, whether Cinderella had ever really been happy with her Prince Charming. They hardly had scrubbing floors in common. Millie had to scrub the old lino in the caf? quite a lot, what with muddy sand being walked in. She couldn’t exactly see Jed on his hands and knees, dipping a brush in a bucket. Millie dismissed the mental image of Jed with soapsuds on his nose with a giggle. ‘So is that why you’re in the area? To suss out property for your mum?’ ‘Partly.’ Jed replaced his sunglasses. He gave an embarrassed grin. ‘You don’t say no to my mother and live. She’s supposed to be checking up on me at some point.’ He paused and then added, ‘But I’ve one or two clients around here too, so I might have a bit of business to deal with. And how did you like the shopping, Trevor?’ He bent down and fussed the dog. The change of subject wasn’t subtle and Millie didn’t miss it. ‘I envy you being able to have a dog. I’m always here, there and everywhere. It wouldn’t be fair on it.’ He sighed. ‘Not enough time, either.’ There was that note of yearning again. The same as when he’d complimented Berecombe. Millie didn’t understand it. How could anyone like him be envious of what little she had? ‘What do you do, Jed? For a living, I mean.’ He continued to fuss Trevor and didn’t answer for a moment. Then seemed to come to a decision. ‘I’m a management consultant. Freelance.’ ‘Sounds high-pressured.’ ‘It can be.’ He straightened and looked out to sea. ‘It most certainly can be. I enjoy a challenge, though.’ ‘And you say you’ve got clients around here?’ ‘One or two. Mostly in Exeter. I do some work for the university and for Lodgings.’ ‘Blimey. They’re the biggest chain of solicitors in the south-west.’ Millie was impressed. He named another couple of prominent companies and then returned to tickling under Trevor’s chin. ‘What does it involve? Your job?’ ‘Oh, you know, I identify strengths and weaknesses, help to develop strategies, reduce costs. That sort of thing. Help companies do what they do but better, I suppose. And it’s always useful to have an outsider look over things.’ ‘True.’ ‘I’m the maverick of the family, though. My brother, Alex, is the successful one. Banker in the city,’ he added at her blank look. It really was another existence. For the first time, Millie felt restlessness tug at her, felt the frustration of a life that had been so horribly derailed on that awful day in June. The one when the police had arrived on her doorstep asking if there was anyone who could be with her. The only people she could think of had been the Bartletts. Owners of The Plaice Place and parents of her best friend at school. Millie had a sudden vision of Dora pushing past them, running into the caf? and bursting into hysterical tears. Mrs Bartlett had simply hugged a dry-eyed Millie to her. Millie hadn’t cried for a long, long time. Instead, she had given up on school and a university place, to run the caf?. She’d layered her grief under solid hard work ever since. Had re-named the caf? and begun to enjoy the life it gave her. But what if her parents hadn’t died? What if she’d gone to university after all, got a job like Jed’s or his high-flying brother’s? Trevor nudged at her knee and whined a little, bringing her back. It was stupid to think that way. Her life was perfect as it was. Jed had been talking, explaining more of what his job entailed but she’d missed most of it. She gathered it meant a lot of international travelling. She’d been right. They were from different worlds. Different galaxies, even. She imagined him with a sleek blonde on his arm, at parties, skiing, at one of those resorts where cute little huts were built over a tropical sea. Or did that constitute a beach holiday? She doubted it. ‘You’re miles away,’ Jed said and took her hand in his. ‘That’s why I don’t go on about my job, or one of the reasons, anyway. It bores people rigid. And I’d hate to bore you.’ He was very close. Yes, they were different animals but even Millie, inexperienced as she was, couldn’t mistake the warmth in his expression. ‘I’m so sorry. You’re right, I was miles away.’ Fervently hoping her hand wasn’t greasy from the pasty and that she didn’t have onion breath, she blurted out, ‘I’m just a bit worried about how the new caf? opening up in Berecombe will impact on my place.’ Jed sat back and removed his hand. Perhaps she had bad breath after all? ‘I’ve heard the gossip in town. You’re talking about Blue Elephant?’ he asked after a long pause. ‘I can’t see it myself.’ ‘Can’t you?’ ‘Millie, you’ve got something very special going on. Millie Vanilla’s does exceptional food, great coffee and you’ve a loyal band of customers on top of seasonal trade. You’re at the heart of your community, any fool can see that. I certainly did on my first visit. They all love you, don’t they?’ He shoved his sunglasses up his nose with one finger and seemed embarrassed at being so serious. ‘Plus,’ he added, more flippantly, ‘you’re much nearer to the beach. Practically on it. And that sun terrace you have is a huge bonus.’ Millie wasn’t sure she was loved by everyone. It certainly didn’t feel that way with Biddy most of the time. ‘The terrace is my secret weapon, I agree. It’s a fantastic draw in the summer.’ She glanced across. ‘So you think I’m worrying about nothing?’ ‘Well, it’s wise to be cautious. I wouldn’t invest in changing any major stuff for the time being. Sticking with what you know goes down well with your customers and your strong brand.’ Millie laughed. ‘My brand? I don’t think I have one of those.’ ‘You may not think it but, yes, Millie Vanilla’s is strongly branded. In its own way. And remember your links to your community. Blue Elephant can never hope to emulate that.’ ‘Thanks, Jed. I appreciate you saying that. Is that some of your management consultancy in action?’ He laughed. ‘Sort of. Need a lift back to Berecombe?’ ‘No thanks. I’ve got my car.’ She rose and he passed her the shopping bags. ‘Millie, I know you work all the hours God sends but I’d like to take you out one evening, if I may?’ Millie looked down at his face, wishing he’d take off his sunglasses so she could see his eyes. Tessa’s words rushed back at her. Her friend had been right, she did deserve some fun. When had she last been out with a man before Jed came along? She wracked her brain to no avail. She and Tessa hadn’t been out on a girly night in Exeter for weeks either. They’d not even managed a pizza in Lyme. She smiled at him, making her decision. ‘Now the literary festival is over, I’m not staying open late in the evenings, so yes, Jed, you may take me out. In fact, I’d like nothing better.’ Chapter 11 (#u08bb6896-9b2e-51e4-8a91-0d13b06c0a4b) Jed picked her up in a Golf, top of the range, and obviously a hire car. When he saw her admiring its plush leather interior, he explained. ‘I’m never in one place for very long.’ There was more regret in his voice. ‘So there seems little point in getting a car of my own. I just hire one wherever I am.’ It was one more indication of his peripatetic lifestyle. ‘Where are you staying, while you’re around here I mean?’ ‘Oh, haven’t I said? The Lord of the Manor.’ He steered the car out of its tight spot with ease. ‘Do you know it?’ Millie suppressed a laugh. ‘Yes, I know it. We’re not going there for dinner, are we?’ ‘No fear,’ Jed said stoutly. ‘The food’s dire. I can’t believe the place gets any business.’ ‘Neither can I. The Simpson family, who run it, have had it for donkey’s years but don’t like spending money on it. I haven’t been in for ages.’ She glanced at his profile while he drove. He had a very lovely high-bridged nose and enviably clear skin. ‘What’s it like?’ ‘The public rooms are okay, if you like shabby-chic that’s original Jacobean and not designer. But my room is a nightmare. Hot water at random times, the windows have gaps around them bigger than the frames and non-existent heating. I only had enough hot water for the quickest of showers tonight. I hope I don’t smell.’ Using it as an excuse, Millie leaned over and sniffed. He smelled heavenly, as usual. ‘No, you don’t smell of anything you shouldn’t,’ she said, taking in a lungful of something woody. It made a change to be with a man who smelled of something other than Old Spice, as Arthur invariably did. Along with wet dog on occasion. Jed concentrated as he turned right onto the A35 before adding, ‘But it’s the lack of Wi-Fi that really irritates me. The place claims to have superfast broadband but I haven’t seen any evidence of it so far.’ ‘To be fair, the internet is notoriously slow around here. I’ve never been sure why. Too many hills, maybe? In some places it’s hard to get a signal on your mobile, let alone anything else.’ ‘I’ve noticed.’ He flashed a swift grin. ‘How on earth do you manage? To run a business, I mean.’ ‘Oh, we do okay. Sometimes it’s even quite nice to do things the old-fashioned way. You know, on the landline.’ She pulled a face. ‘Or by post.’ ‘Do you know, I think I’ve had better reception in the middle of the desert than Dorset or Devon?’ Then he heard, properly, what she’d said. ‘Are you poking fun at me?’ ‘Not at all, but don’t you think it’s good to occasionally be away from all that social media and stuff? I can’t see the point of posting pictures of what you’ve had for lunch. Fries my brain sometimes.’ Millie felt herself tense. They were approaching the spot where her parents had died. Even after all these years, she still couldn’t pass it without grief stealing in. ‘I think you’re delightfully and gorgeously old-fashioned, Millie. And I know what you mean, but customers nowadays expect to be connected to a fast service all the time. And moan like hell if they can’t.’ He gunned the Golf’s engine and overtook expertly. He must have noticed her clenched fists. ‘Are you alright? Not a nervous passenger?’ They were past. It was okay. ‘I’m fine.’ She forced herself to relax and to focus on more pleasant things. On the here and now. On the fact that Jed had called her gorgeous. Well, sort of. ‘So, if you’re not treating me to an evening of dubious gastronomic delight at the Lord, where are we going tonight?’ ‘You’ll see.’ With a smile, Jed flicked on some music and they didn’t speak again. It turned out to be a country-house hotel on the edge of Dorchester. As Jed swung the car into the car park, he asked, ‘French. Is that alright with you? It’s one of my favourite countries and I love the food. This place was recommended to me, so I hope it lives up to its reputation.’ They parked between a Bentley and a Porsche. Millie looked around in dismay. She should have guessed it would be an expensive sort of place. She was going to be completely under-dressed in leggings and flowery mini-dress. Jed read her panic. ‘You look beautiful. You always do. Don’t worry and try to relax. I want this to be a real treat for you. Thought it might make a change for you not to cook. I only hope the food comes up to your standards.’ Millie felt his appreciative gaze on her and blushed. She added ‘beautiful’ to his list of compliments and the glow inside her spread. The passenger door was opened by a liveried car-park attendant who murmured a reverent, ‘Good evening, madam.’ Millie tried not to giggle and looked up at the hotel’s subtly lit Georgian facade. She wondered just what she’d got herself into. Her recollection of the evening was of soft music, good wine, fantastically complicated food and impeccable service. From the moment she stepped from the car she wasn’t aware of having to lift a finger or even open a door. All evening her needs were not only met but anticipated. Once in the lounge, a soft-footed waiter presented her with a glass of champagne and another brought a tiny canap? of salmon gravlax. Seated at a table, covered in a snowy white cloth, an amuse bouche of different-coloured beetroots and creamy goat’s cheese arrived, followed by brill with citrus couscous. The service was attentive and discreet. She didn’t have to wait a second for her water or wine glass to be topped up. It was divine and a world away from her little caf? in Berecombe. Jed, she noticed, had a glass of champagne and then drank sparkling water all night. He seemed not only to be at home in his surroundings but was almost casually contemptuous of it. Sighing over delicious chocolatey petits fours she said, ‘I’d love to travel as you obviously have.’ Jed shrugged. ‘If I’m honest, it can get pretty boring. And mostly all I see is the inside of airports and hotels. I’ve done some cool stuff, dining with a Bedouin tribe under the desert stars is a stand-out, but it’s not much fun without someone to share it with.’ He flicked a glance at Millie. ‘Just lately I’ve developed a real hunger to settle down somewhere. Put some roots down. With that special person.’ ‘Ha!’ Millie blurted, aware she’d had quite a bit to drink. ‘Gotta find her first.’ Jed gave her a slow smile. ‘That’s very true.’ Millie licked melted chocolate off her finger and frowned. ‘So you mean you’d like marriage, a family, the whole commitment?’ ‘Yeah. I think it’s the right time for me. I’ve rattled around the world on my own for too long. It would be nice to be in one place, be part of a community, like you are.’ Millie’s face burned. It could be the alcohol or it could be the picture that was forming of Jed rocking a baby in his arms. A baby that had his dark eyes and a mop of her unruly hair. Whoa, Millie, she admonished herself. Too much too soon. She gazed at Jed. There was no mistaking the heat in his expression. She finished her coffee in one gulp. ‘Still, as I’ve said, you’ve got to find that special someone first.’ He smiled enigmatically and then called a waiter over. ‘More coffee, please. And Millie, would you like a brandy with yours?’ She nodded. She was bursting with questions to ask him but was too self-conscious – and quite possibly too tipsy. Instead, she tried for nonchalance when spotting a well-known actor and two presenters from the local news. And then, as the alcohol really kicked in, she surrendered herself to the happy feeling of being completely and utterly cosseted. ‘Don’t know about you,’ Jed said, in the car on the way home. ‘But I didn’t think that wild garlic consomm? was a patch on your butternut squash soup.’ Millie giggled sleepily, replete with good food and luxury. She could get used to this. ‘It was a lovely evening,’ she said, snuggling down into her coat. ‘Thank you. You were right, it has been a real treat.’ She rested her head back and enjoyed the scent of the leather upholstery. ‘Good. I get the feeling you haven’t had many treats. I was delighted to indulge you.’ As he manoeuvred the car out of the car park, he began to explain that the hotel was trying to emulate Le Manoir aux Quat’ Saisons,but he still preferred the original. Millie didn’t reply; she was fast asleep. Jed woke her by tweaking her nose gently. Millie came to, flustered and embarrassed. ‘We’re back in Berecombe? I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I slept all the way!’ She looked around. They were parked up on the promenade outside her caf?. He rested an arm along her headrest. ‘You know, I think you work too hard.’ Millie gazed into his dark eyes, their expression impenetrable, even in the glow from the lights strung up along the prom. He was very close and nerves made her breathy. ‘Do I? I’ve normally got bags of energy. It’s just that –’ She was silenced by his kiss. His hand cupped her cheekbone and she found the touch of his long fingers immeasurably exciting. His lips were cool and expert and Millie gave in. Time for a bit of fun, she decided. I don’t really know who you are or how long you’ll be around, but at this precise moment I don’t care. Then his kiss deepened and she stopped thinking altogether. It seemed only seconds later that he was pulling back. ‘Don’t stop.’ ‘Millie, my love, it’s late. I’m assuming you have to get up at some unearthly hour in the morning and I have to fly to Paris tomorrow.’ ‘Oh.’ ‘I’ll be back. It’s just for a meeting.’ Millie took a deep breath. ‘You could come in, you know.’ He dropped his hand from its hold on her face. ‘God, I’d love to Millie, you don’t know how much. But it’s just not the right time.’ He looked down, a frown knitting his brows. ‘There are some things I have to sort out first.’ ‘Oh, I see.’ ‘No, you don’t.’ He raked a hand through his hair, making it stand up on end. ‘You don’t see at all.’ He gathered her hands in his. Kissing her fingers, he added, ‘And why should you?’ The script wasn’t going according to plan. Yes, okay, when she should have been indulging in light banter and pre-coital flirting, she’d fallen asleep in the car and may well have snored. It wouldn’t have been pretty. But weren’t men supposed to be permanently gagging for sex? And here was the man of her dreams turning down her offer. Maybe she’d had too much garlic soup at dinner? Or she wasn’t his usual brand of sleek blonde? Lust shrivelled in her loins. Bugger. Jed’s hand returned to her cheek. He trailed a finger down her face. ‘Do you – can you trust me, Millie? Before this goes any further, there’s something I have to do.’ Millie found herself nodding. ‘I trust you.’ She did. She didn’t have a clue why, but she did. Jed exhaled, as if her answer had mattered a great deal to him. ‘Good.’ He reached over and unclicked her seatbelt. He was very near. Tantalisingly so. She could smell his hair and feel the heat coming off his skin. She wanted him so badly it hurt. It actually hurt. She gave a little gasp of need. He gave her a rueful look. ‘Let’s get you inside before I change my mind.’ Chapter 12 (#ulink_3084f565-a741-56df-bc90-91e0cb5888ff) Millie was in such a state the following morning that she hardly noticed who came in to the caf?, what they ordered and, more worryingly, what she served them. What had Jed got to sort? Why did he have to go to Paris? When would he back? Why hadn’t she thought to ask for his mobile number? Why hadn’t he given it to her? Why did his upper lip jut out slightly more than the lower and made her want to take it between her teeth? ‘What is the matter with you, girl? Since when do I eat chocolate cake?’ Biddy’s sharp voice made Millie jump. ‘So sorry, Biddy. It’s my special today, but I’ll get you your usual scone.’ ‘And a biscuit for Elvis.’ ‘Of course.’ Millie caught a sympathetic look from Arthur as she glided back into the kitchen. She was walking on air. Who would have thought one kiss could make her feel like this? And if his kiss was that powerful, what would … ‘Millie!’ roared Biddy. ‘Arthur’s not got his tea yet.’ Millie forced herself to concentrate. At this rate there would be no Millie Vanilla’s for Jed to come back to. Banishing a vision of his long tanned body rumpling her nautically striped sheets, Millie slapped herself on the cheek and went to work. As she came out, bearing a tray of tea for Arthur and scones for Biddy, Zoe and Sean came in. According to Tessa, Zoe was making the most of any free time by spending it with Sean, working with Ken in his studio. ‘Hi, Millie,’ Zoe said and blushed. ‘We’ll sit over in the corner, if you don’t mind. Thank you. Oh, hi Granddad,’ she called to Arthur. ‘Mum said she’d be over later. Got a couple of frozen casseroles for you.’ This was deeply worrying. Zoe never blushed. And she was never that polite. Millie served Biddy and Arthur and watched, from the corner of her eye, as Zoe and Sean pressed themselves into the corner table and gazed adoringly into each other’s eyes. The intensity! ‘There’s no sugar in this bowl,’ Biddy yelled. Buttoning down the urge to tell Biddy where to go, Millie forced a smile and murmured she’d go and get some. ‘What did she say?’ Biddy said irritably to Arthur. ‘What’s going on in here today? I’ve a good mind to take my custom elsewhere.’ Millie served Zoe and Sean their hot chocolate and was beckoned over by Arthur. ‘Come and sit yourself down for a minute, my dear,’ he said. He looked comically over his shoulder, as if spies might hear. ‘I’ve got some information about that new place opening on the high street.’ Millie poured herself a coffee and, having glanced around to check if anyone needed anything, perched on a chair next to Arthur. ‘Do I have to give you a password before you tell me anything?’ she hissed, wide-eyed. Arthur looked blank. ‘You know, “The moon is full and the sea is calm,” sort of thing.’ Arthur raised his eyebrows in a way that made Millie feel about five. ‘You might not be laughing when you hear this, my dear. This new caf?, Blue Elephant, is opening next weekend.’ Millie sat back in dismay, all flippancy gone. ‘So soon?’ Arthur nodded. ‘I’d been hoping it wouldn’t be ready for ages.’ ‘Apparently they’ve been beavering away behind those boarded-up windows. Want to catch a bit of the trade as soon as possible. Establish themselves before the new tourist season starts.’ Millie bit her lip. ‘I suppose that makes sense.’ She could kick herself. There had been no time to think through the refurbishment of the caf? and she hadn’t even tried out any new menus. She looked around. Who was she kidding? Biddy always had her coffee and scone, the kids drank hot chocolate and Arthur was loyal to his pot of tea. They weren’t exactly the customers to go for the sort of exciting flavour combinations she’d eaten last night. She couldn’t see Biddy enjoying brill and citrus couscous. With a heavy heart, she tuned back in to what Arthur was saying. ‘They’re opening a Blue Elephant in Berecombe,’ he was saying, ‘and Taunton and Honiton is next on the list and then Exeter. That’s if all goes well here.’ Millie snorted. ‘And why shouldn’t it? With so many branches close together they’ll be able to buy in bulk cheaply. And completely undercut my prices.’ She put her head in her hands and groaned. ‘I’m so sorry, my dear, but I thought you’d like to know.’ Arthur’s voice was full of concern. She forced herself to look him in the eye. ‘Thank you, Arthur. I appreciate it.’ Then a thought struck. ‘How do you know all this?’ ‘Dennis, the chairman of the trading committee, told me.’ ‘Fuck.’ Millie caught herself. ‘Sorry, Arthur.’ He gave a small smile. ‘A certain level of profanity is acceptable in the circumstances, my dear.’ He patted her hand. ‘But you have no need for concern. This caf? and the Blue Elephant place are two very different animals, as Zoe would say.’ ‘Maybe.’ ‘Now, don’t look so gloomy. Think about it. You’ve lived alongside Kosy Korner and The Plaice Place all these years.’ ‘I have. But you’ve got to admit they both offer different things. People go to a chip shop for, well, chips and the KK does its roast dinner carveries. The Blue Elephant will sell the same things as me – coffee, cake, sandwiches, that type of thing. They’ll be in direct competition with me.’ Arthur straightened. ‘I’m positive it will all be fine. When the tourist season begins there’s trade enough for everybody.’ ‘That’s the problem, Arthur. I’ve got to get to the next season.’ ‘Things that tight, eh?’ He looked shocked. Millie didn’t trust herself to speak. She nodded. ‘Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry.’ ‘Arthur, I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t have this place. I can’t do anything else.’ He patted her hand again. ‘I’m sure it won’t come to that. Look, I’ll get my thinking cap on, shall I? See what I can come up with.’ ‘Oh, Arthur, would you? Thank you.’ ‘Best be off. Don’t want to leave Daisy too long.’ He stood up. Now it was Millie’s turn to look shocked. ‘Oh, Arthur, I feel awful, I haven’t even asked after her!’ Arthur’s face clouded. He tucked his scarf around his neck. ‘I’m still waiting for test results. Never an easy time, is it?’ Millie rose and gave him a hug. He shook her off. ‘Now, dear girl, don’t be too nice to me. That’s when the waterworks start. I’ll be off.’ And, with a quick wave to Zoe, he’d gone. ‘What were you two whispering about so secretly?’ Biddy asked, obviously miffed at being left out of the conversation. Millie said the first thing that came into her head. It wasn’t a complete lie. ‘Oh nothing much. Think Arthur’s worried about vet’s bills and poor Daisy being so ill.’ ‘Hmph, he needs to man up,’ Biddy said, sourly. ‘Eyes too near his bladder. Always said so.’ Millie ignored her, collected Arthur’s plate and mug and went into the kitchen. All romantic thoughts of Jed had fled. Chapter 13 (#ulink_ff590170-da20-514b-ad30-6ce1e44f5f82) If Millie needed a diversion from worrying over the caf?, she got it on her early morning dog walk across the beach two days later. Trevor saw him first. With a delighted bark, the dog belted across the flat wet expanse of sand. The sun was shining in Millie’s eyes, so she could only see his silhouette but she’d know his walk anywhere. Confident, covering a lot of ground in a short space of time. Summed the man up, really. Jed. He was back! She ran up to him, but wasn’t in time to stop Trevor from jumping up and covering his jeans in wet sand. ‘Hi, Millie. Thought I’d join you,’ he yelled over a volley of barks. ‘I’m sorry,’ she gasped, horrified. ‘He really shouldn’t jump up at people like that.’ She bent to grab the dog’s collar and missed. She straightened. ‘Oh, Trev, get down!’ ‘It doesn’t matter. These are old.’ Millie, eyeing the cut and the material, quietly disagreed. They looked thoroughly designer to her. Not that she had much experience to go on. ‘He really shouldn’t get into the habit of jumping up at people.’ Jed fussed the dog, who danced around and barked some more. ‘It’s my fault. I called him over. I really don’t mind, you know. It makes a nice change to get out of a suit sometimes and be scruffy.’ ‘Is that your idea of scruffy?’ Millie looked down at her own cropped jeans and knee- length baggy grey sweater. It was another of her dad’s. She pushed her hair, made curly by sea spray, off her face and laughed. Jed looked abashed. ‘Well, it’s all relative.’ With Trevor finally calm, Millie put her arm through Jed’s and turned westwards, in the direction of the caf?. ‘What brings you out this early?’ ‘Thought I’d see what the attraction of a dawn start was and join you on your early morning dog walk. Oh, and you know, it’s too nice a morning to waste.’ ‘Isn’t it just? Glorious. And it’s a spring tide today. The sea has gone out a long way. Loads of space for Trev to run.’ They wandered nearer the edge of the waves, where the dog was trying to tug a deeply buried bit of wood out of the sand. ‘And he never gives up hope with that. Stubborn and persistent, that’s my Trevor.’ ‘Wonder who he gets that from?’ Jed said, on a smile. ‘Hey!’ Millie jabbed in the side with her elbow. ‘I believe you promised me a sandcastle building lesson.’ ‘What? Now?’ ‘Well, the thing is, I have to do this thing called work and you seem to spend all your waking hours running the caf?. I find I have to make the most of any time I have with you. So, yes. Now.’ Millie stopped and smiled up at him. The chilly air had freshened his complexion and brought an impish gleam to his dark eyes. ‘You’re on.’ He clasped a hand, cold from the wind, around the back of her neck. His thumb hooked around her earlobe and he brought her face closer. ‘You could teach me so many things, Millie,’ he murmured against her lips. He began to kiss her and then yelled. Millie felt icy sea water hit her wellies and shrieked with laughter as Jed danced around trying to avoid the incoming tide, which had soaked his expensive-looking boat shoes. She grabbed his hand. ‘Come on then, Scruff Boy. Let’s go and find ourselves a bucket and spade.’ They ran over to a shack on the very end of the promenade, where it met the lane that led to the harbour. The dilapidated sign over the shop read: Barney’s Beach Supplies. ‘Looks in need of a bit of TLC,’ Jed observed. ‘It’s the rough winter weather. Always plays havoc with any paintwork on the front. Barney will repaint before the season gets going proper and it’ll look beautiful.’ Millie looked up at the front of the boarded-up wooden shed with fondness. ‘He does candy floss and yummy toffee apples in October before he closes up.’ She disappeared around the back and yelled out, ‘Barney always keeps a few buckets and spades back here. He does an unofficial lost-and-found service in the summer.’ She reappeared, brandishing a couple of spades and three faded plastic buckets. ‘Come on, let’s find us the right sort of sand.’ ‘There are different sorts of sand?’ Jed queried. ‘Oh, you have so much to learn, my lovely,’ Millie responded, looking pityingly at him. Jed grinned. ‘Apparently so.’ ‘Bet mine will be bigger than yours.’ ‘Are you challenging me?’ Echoing her tone, he added, ‘Oh, Millie, you have so much to learn!’ Millie gave him a quick peck on the lips and then bobbed out her tongue. She ran out to sea, to the flat sand, a euphoric Trevor at her heels and screamed as Jed began to chase her. Squabbling like children, they worked furiously to build the biggest castles possible, in a race against the tide. Watching all their hard work crumble into the sea, Jed put his arm around Millie’s shoulders. ‘I can’t believe I’ve got to the age of thirty-three and not done this before.’ He kissed the side of her head. ‘And you know what?’ ‘You’re starving?’ ‘How did you know?’ Millie giggled. ‘Lucky guess.’ She put her arms around his waist and hugged him to her. Standing on the beach of her home town and feeling his warm, solid body next to hers, she wondered if she could be any happier. Lifting her face to the sun and to the salty spray, she said, ‘I love it here so much.’ Jed tightened his arm around her. ‘You know what, Millie? So do I.’ Back at the caf?, they toed off their wet shoes. ‘These are never going to be the same again,’ Jed mourned as he examined his ruined loafers. ‘Oh dear,’ Millie said, without sympathy. ‘Totally unsuitable for sandcastle making.’ She adopted a lofty expression. ‘What you need is a pair of wellies like these.’ Taking her foot out of the left one, she held it up and dripped water from a sodden pink sock. Her face fell. ‘Ah. Think I’ve sprung a leak.’ ‘Yeah, that’s exactly what I need, Millie!’ Jed caught her as she giggled and unbalanced. He kissed her soundly. ‘You make me laugh. You make everything so joyous. How do you do that?’ He kissed her again. ‘I don’t know,’ she replied, emerging blinking from the kiss. Wrinkling her nose, she said, ‘Maybe it’s something I put in my famous bacon sarnies?’ Jed groaned. ‘Speaking of which …’ Chapter 14 (#ulink_647ea26d-6e73-5ddd-9998-1597a6941ba8) The following Saturday Millie locked up the caf? for the afternoon and went along to the grand opening of Blue Elephant. As she flipped the sign to, ‘I’m so sorry, you’ve missed our lovely cakes!’ and turned the key, her heart sank into her Doc Martens. The caf? had been as silent as a tomb and just as gloomy all morning. She was in no danger of losing trade by closing early. Even the weather refused to sympathise. It was a gloriously fresh and blue day and the sun beat down hard on the concrete of the promenade. Millie shoved on her heart-shaped sunglasses and hid behind her hair. This wasn’t going to be easy. As she neared the steepest part of the high street there was an air of palpable excitement. Approaching Blue Elephant itself she was accosted by someone in, of course, a blue elephant costume. He gave some passing children a bunch of blue balloons and thrust a glossy leaflet into her hands. It was, inevitably, elephant-shaped and exclaimed she could get a free muffin with her coffee today. Passing the acoustic trio cheerfully playing ’Nellie the Elephant‘, she went in. No expense had been spared for the launch, it seemed. She paused for a moment to get her bearings. No trace of the old bank remained. Instead, the entrance hall rose uninterrupted to the ceiling, with a mezzanine level running around half. A spiral staircase led up to the second floor and it had been discovered by the town’s teenagers, who were running up and down, shrieking and giggling. The walls of the caf? were painted a chalky blue and there was a stunning abstract ammonite-themed mural on one. It had streaks of denim blue and sandy yellow, which was echoed in the striped material covering the banquettes and chairs. Millie took a breath. She’d half-hoped for more naff blue elephants or a cartoon theme. She was disappointed. Even she had to admit the decor was supremely tasteful. And the place was packed. Of course it was. It was the reason why Millie Vanilla’s had been empty all day. Zoe appeared at her elbow. She tugged her arm. ‘Hi, Mil. Come to vet the competition?’ Millie gave her a weak grin and nodded. ‘Hand over your voucher and I’ll grab us some coffee. Quick, there’s a free table over there.’ Zoe pointed in the direction of a table where two customers were just leaving. Millie made her way over to it, saying hello and goodbye to the people she knew as she went. Lots of them were her regulars. Perching on the very edge of a bench, she waited for Zoe and looked around. Mr and Mrs Levi, who ran the bed and breakfast on the front waved, as did Percy the butcher, who was sitting with Dean from the White Bear. Millie murmured a greeting to Dave Curzon from the newsagent and to Lola, his girlfriend, who ran a veggie restaurant in nearby Colyton. Even the Simpsons from the Lord of the Manor were here. Zoe returned, with Sean in tow. They were carrying polystyrene cups of coffee and a paper plate of muffins. No pretty mismatched pink flowery crockery here, Millie thought bitterly. And no washing up either. But, then again, it was not very eco-friendly. A little glimmer of hope dawned. Maybe that was something she could emphasise at Millie Vanilla’s? She was careful to use eco-friendly and reusable products. Sean found Zoe a chair and toed it over for her to sit down. The girl looked around, a half-impressed, half-horrified expression on her face. ‘Awesome, isn’t it?’ Sean agreed with a muttered, ‘Well sick.’ Zoe sniggered at him. She turned to Millie. ‘Do you want the bad news or the really bad news?’ She pushed a coffee over. Millie couldn’t trust herself to answer. She took a sip of her latte instead. It was delicious. Pinching off some muffin she found that was good too. Zoe, watching her with concern, said, ‘That’s the one bit of bad news. The coffee and cake is good. The other bad news is they’ve got a barista from Rome.’ Her eyes widened. ‘A real-life Italian barista here in Berecombe. And to top all that, he’s bloody gorg!’ Millie pushed her food away. How could she hope to compete with all this? She felt like crying. Zoe put her hand on hers. ‘Don’t worry, Mil,’ she said stoutly. ‘It’s busy today ’cos people are getting freebies. And there’s the novelty value, of course. But it won’t last. Things will settle down.’ ‘Will they?’ ‘’Course they will. Can’t see old Biddy or Granddad in here, can you? Or the knitting circle.’ She leaned closer. ‘And here’s the killer, they don’t let dogs in. That’ll reduce their trade by at least half come the tourist season. Chillax, Mil.’ Millie looked around. At the happy faces, at the buzzy atmosphere, at the children running about trailing blue balloons. Looking at the glossy dark-wood tables, the chandelier tinkling from the ceiling, the state of the art coffee-making machines, she despaired. In comparison, Millie Vanilla’s seemed all at once dated, shabby and insufferably twee. Her misery was interrupted by Sean exclaiming he’d just seen his mum go through a door marked ‘Private’, accompanied by a bloke in a suit. Millie’s mood worsened. What the hell was Tessa doing here? And, more importantly, what was she doing having talks with the enemy? Chapter 15 (#ulink_d19173f9-0447-5ec7-8618-9b35a8737901) ‘Right,’ she said, a week later, to her audience of Arthur, Zoe, Sean and Biddy, plus a snoozing Trevor and Elvis, ‘I need an action plan!’ She’d spent all week poring over the net and making muddled notes, but wasn’t much closer to coming up with a cohesive plan. All she’d succeeded in doing was having long, restless nights tossing and turning. Usually her white and gull-grey decorated bedroom was her sanctuary. She’d deliberately painted it soothing, calming colours so it would be a quieter comparison to the caf?’s more frantic decoration downstairs. But since going to Blue Elephant’s launch, sleep had evaded her. She’d lain awake until the first heavy steps and squawks of the herring gulls sounded on the roof. Then she’d fallen into an uncomfortably heavy slumber punctured by weird dreams of Jed running up and down Blue Elephant’s spiral staircase. This morning, she’d woken, unrefreshed, to a turquoise sea and a sun so bright it hurt her eyes. It seemed Arthur was right, spring was determinedly on its way. And, with the better weather, came tourists. It was time to do something positive. ‘We need an action plan,’ declared Arthur, his eyes gleaming. ‘We’ll show the buggers.’ ‘Way to go, Granddad!’ giggled Zoe. He harrumphed and pushed his specs back up his face. ‘Yes well, you know what I mean.’ Despite the sunny weather, her little gang of faithfuls had congregated in the caf? to discuss what could be done. There had been a noticeable dent in Millie’s trade already. The caf? had been deserted for much of the week. Once the season proper began, she anticipated she’d still be popular with tourists using the beach, but those window-shopping in town would favour Blue Elephant. She just hoped her dog-friendly policy would bring in a few customers turned away from the new boy on the block. The real crowning glory was Millie Vanilla’s sun terrace and its uninterrupted views across the bay. Once the weather really warmed up, it would be a huge asset – and one that a converted bank building most definitely lacked. To Millie’s disappointment, most of her regulars had jumped ship already. The Yummy Mummies hadn’t been seen all week and the knitting circle had been lured away by the promise of cheap pensioners’ specials. Even Zoe’s gang of girls seemed to prefer Blue Elephant. Zoe, however, was confident they’d return. Clare had reported back that staff actively pushed additional orders, asking if a giant cookie or slice of cheesecake was needed to go with their hot chocolate – and getting stroppy when their suggestions were refused. To make matters worse, in Clare’s opinion, the staff had made it clear that once everything had been eaten and drunk, customers should make themselves scarce. It turned out Blue Elephant wasn’t tolerant of a group of schoolgirls loitering over one drink all afternoon. Stick all that in your trendy pipe and smoke it, Millie had thought. Even with your hot Italian barista, the fight is on! Buoyed by the realisation that not all was perfect in the rival camp, Millie distributed coffee, tea, hot chocolate, a specially made upside-down pineapple cake and dog biscuits and called the meeting to order. She outlined a few thoughts but explained she was open to anything they could suggest. ‘So, anyone got any ideas? Anything to say?’ ‘Cake’s brilliant,’ Sean said, through a mouthful. ‘Not quite what I had in mind, Sean, but thank you for the compliment.’ ‘Cheaper prices,’ Biddy yelled out, making Trevor jump. ‘Or free things?’ ‘Good point, giveaways always go down well,’ Zoe agreed. ‘I can’t do that indefinitely, Millie pointed out. ‘I haven’t got the luxury of the profit margins Blue Elephant will have.’ ‘Could you buy any supplies in more cheaply, my dear?’ ‘No, Arthur. That’s one thing I’m not compromising on. Organic produce and homemade food. That’s what people know me for.’ ‘And quite rightly so.’ Arthur put his hand on Millie’s. ‘But I’m happy to have a look at your accounts. See where economies can be made.’ ‘Thanks, Arthur. I’d appreciate that. I’m pretty good at them, but a fresh pair of eyes might help.’ ‘Ice-cream in the summer?’ Sean put in. Millie pulled a gloomy face. ‘I don’t want to encroach on the Icicle Works,’ she said, referring to the ice-cream parlour. ‘And besides, I don’t want to wait until the summer before getting anything new going.’ She paused, thinking. ‘I could add in an ice-cream option with my apple pie or fresh strawberry tart, though, couldn’t I? Good idea, Sean!’ Sean blushed rosily and concentrated on eating his cake. ‘What about themed weeks?’ Zoe added. ‘You know, something to go with Valentine’s Day.’ At this she and Sean glanced at each other and giggled. ‘That’s an interesting idea,’ Millie said, slowly. ‘What sort of thing did you have in mind?’ Zoe shrugged. ‘I dunno. Heart-shaped biscuits?’ ‘Pink iced cupcakes?’ Sean said. As his reward Zoe hugged his arm to her and kissed him soundly on the cheek. ‘Love Heart sweeties on the tables,’ Biddy added, somewhat unexpectedly. ‘And heart patterns in the froth on the coffee!’ Zoe said, bouncing on her seat with excitement. ‘It could so work! Clare and the gang would love it.’ ‘And it wouldn’t cost too much extra on top of your usual outgoings,’ Arthur added, ever practical. ‘Sean and me could do up some flyers,’ Zoe said. ‘Could easily do some A5 ads on the Mac.’ Millie looked at her loyal group of friends with gratitude. Tears welling, she reached out and grasped the hands of Arthur and Zoe, those nearest to her. ‘Oh, you guys. You’re amazing.’ ‘There’s Chinese New Year and Pancake Day, Easter and –’ Millie cut Zoe off. ‘Oh, my lovely, that’s great but,’ at this she paused, ‘I really don’t want to seem ungrateful, I really don’t, but as fantastic an idea as themed weeks are, I don’t think they’d be enough. I need a really big event to re-launch Millie Vanilla’s.’ ‘A party,’ Sean said. ‘That’s what you need. A party.’ His eyes became enormous. ‘A huge party!’ Everyone stared at him. Sean’s usual utterings were infrequent and monosyllabic but he’d been inspired during this meeting. ‘What sort of thing did you have in mind?’ Millie asked. ‘I can’t really see myself hosting a rave or anything like that.’ ‘Mil,’ Zoe said scornfully, ‘that’s so over.’ ‘Yes, well, you know what I mean.’ ‘We don’t want any of that kind of trouble,’ Biddy sniffed. Sean shifted in his seat and pushed his plate away. ‘Nah, we could have a beach party, here like.’ ‘Ooh, ooh, ooh, a Valentine’s Beach Party,’ Zoe squeaked. ‘It would be cooler than a very cool thing!’ Millie looked from one young eager face to another. ‘Now that might be an idea.’ ‘Or a tea dance?’ Biddy’s voice boomed into her thoughts. ‘What an excellent idea,’ Arthur said, in rare agreement. ‘Oh, Granddad, a party would be better than some naff dance! Can we have fireworks at the end?’ Zoe sneaked a glance at Sean. ‘It would be sooooo romantic.’ Biddy began to protest that young people wanted it all their own way and had they any idea how many older folk would appreciate a good old-fashioned afternoon of dancing? Zoe began to argue back and then Arthur tried to mediate. Millie heard it all as if muffled, through water. Ideas were tumbling into her head so fast and furiously she could barely make sense of them all. ‘Let’s do both!’ she announced. At their stunned silence, she explained. ‘We’ll start with a tea dance in the afternoon, lovely Valentine’s-themed cupcakes –’ ‘What did you say? Cupcakes?’ Biddy bellowed. ‘They were called fairy cakes in my day.’ ‘Alright Biddy, fairy cakes. Lots of lovely good-quality tea, scones and clotted cream –’ ‘And jam,’ Arthur put in. ‘And jam, of course. From Small’s. Strawberry. My Victoria sponge –’ ‘Oh, your sponge is lush,’ Zoe added. ‘Thank you, Zoe. Dress code pretty dresses and smart casual for the men.’ ‘With ties.’ ‘With ties, of course, Arthur. And then we roll into a beach party for later. Let’s hope the good weather keeps up.’ Millie stopped. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I don’t have an alcohol licence.’ ‘Alcohol’s so over, Mil,’ Zoe said. ‘Isn’t it, Sean?’ Sean didn’t look as certain. ‘I can get hay bales to sit on,’ he offered. ‘I know George Small.’ Millie nodded. ‘Thank you, Sean, that’s a fab idea. I’ve got a really good recipe for pink-coloured fruit punch. We could serve that instead.’ ‘The tea-dancers would like that too, I reckon,’ Biddy suggested. ‘I’ve got a recipe for a slut-red raspberry and chardonnay jelly you could use. One of Nigella’s that is. Ooh, I’m looking forward to this. Reminds me of the good old days with the girls. We used to have some rare old parties.’ Millie looked askance at Biddy. She often mentioned ’her girls’. Fellow office workers, she assumed. She knew Arthur had been an accountant, but wasn’t sure what Biddy had done as a career. The slut-red jelly had come as a surprise. She put her hand on the older woman’s. ‘I’m glad you’re looking forward to it.’ ‘And we can have heart-shaped ice cubes!’ ‘Yes, Zoe, we might be able to manage those too.’ Millie grinned at the teenager. ‘What about those fireworks?’ ‘I can sort all the paperwork for that, my dear,’ Arthur offered. ‘Consider it done. Dennis at the council owes me a few favours.’ Millie looked at her band of friends with affection. A motley bunch they might be, but none were more loyal. ‘I can’t tell you how much your support means to me.’ Her voice quavered. ‘It’ll be a new beginning for Millie Vanilla’s.’ ‘Well, spring’s the right season for new beginnings, isn’t it?’ Millie replaced her hand over the older woman’s. ‘It is, Biddy. It is.’ ‘Millie,’ Arthur began and then cleared his throat before continuing. ‘Millie, I don’t think you realise how much affection the town has for you. And for the memory of your dear parents too. I think you’ll find once folk realise what they might be about to lose you’ll have people flocking to the parties. Both of them.’ ‘Thank you, Arthur,’ Millie said through her tears. ‘Thank you everybody.’ There was a pause before she pulled herself together. Finding an unused serviette she blew her nose. ‘To a new Millie Vanilla’s!’ she announced, with a raised pink, flowery teacup. ‘To spring beginnings!’ ‘To spring beginnings!’ Sean and Zoe chorused. ‘To a new Millie Vanilla’s,’ added Arthur and Biddy in perfect unison. They caught one another’s eyes and there was much blushing and coughing and chinking of pink china. Millie watched them out of the corner of her eye. Was it possible? Was it just possible there was a romance going on between the bickering pair? How intriguing – and delightful! Then something hammered all matchmaking – and enthusiasm for a re-launch – out of her. She looked around at the caf?. At the shabby chairs and chipped tables. At the sea-shell mural, which she had once loved and which now looked so tired. At the scuffed lino on the floor. ‘What am I going to do about how this place looks, though?’ she sighed, putting her head in her hands. ‘How on earth am I going to get it looking as good as Blue Elephant?’ Chapter 16 (#ulink_5b7fffa2-f409-543f-bef3-491933344bf5) The weather continued to improve. Despite it being only February, an early spring had definitely sprung. In celebration and relief, people shed their heavy coats and emerged in butterfly-bright t-shirts. The sunshine and warmth brought out happy smiles and relaxed the hunched shoulders of winter. In anticipation of the good weather bringing in tourists, the town opened up, like a flower to the sun, for the new season. Nico scrubbed down his ice-cream kiosk and furiously polished the windows. The Plaice Place extended its opening hours, sending waves of hot chips-and-vinegar scent enticingly across the harbour end of town. Those lucky enough to own a beach hut began the annual clean and paint routine and hung bunting across the doors before settling down for a rest with a book and a flask of tea. Early one morning, before the town had properly woken up, Millie stood on the caf?’s sun terrace breathing in the mild salty air and raising her head to the sky. She closed her eyes to better enjoy the lull and swell of the sea as its rhythm beat through her. The sun warmed her face and there was a cackle of a gull swooping overhead. Even the bird sounded relieved that the long winter was over. Spring was here. She could smell it. Trevor barked in excitement and she heard his claws scrabbling on the sandy concrete, scampering to greet someone. Opening her eyes, her heart leaped into her throat as she saw Jed watching her. ‘I’m sorry, I disturbed you. I caught you day-dreaming.’ He grinned and pushed his sunglasses onto the top of his head. He wore skinny chinos and a pink polo shirt, a sweater rolled loosely around his shoulders. He looked just like what he was – privileged and wealthy. He could have stepped straight out of a Boden catalogue. His effect on her was so acute, she said the first thing she could think of, ‘I was wondering if it was time to put some chairs and tables out here.’ She cursed herself. As if he’d be interested. In this, it seemed, she was wrong. Replacing his glasses, he came forward, nodding. ‘Absolutely, it’s definitely warm enough, or it will be later in the day. You’re always up so early. It’s barely gone eight.’ He bent to fuss Trevor, who was going into ecstasies at seeing him. Millie laughed. ‘The alarm goes off at five. I’ve already walked Trevor and baked today’s specials.’ ‘Oh, how I hate the smug early-riser! More importantly, what are your specials? I’m starving.’ ‘As ever! I’ve a red-velvet chocolate and beetroot cake, some coffee and walnut and a batch of savoury scones.’ Pushing Trevor off gently, Jed came even closer. He stared intently at her lips and ran a finger lightly over them. ‘I don’t know how you do it, Millie. They sound so good. Have I ever told you how much I love your cooking? A real taste of home.’ He bent and kissed her, his lips warm from the sun. ‘You taste of home.’ This time Millie lifted her head and surrendered to Jed rather than the early-morning sunshine. And he was far more exhilarating. She let herself open and he deepened the kiss. Holding her around the waist, he pulled her in against his hardness. She thrust her fingers through his silken hair. She wanted to drown in him, in the sensations that were overwhelming her senses. Jed rested his forehead against hers for a moment. ‘Millie, Millie, Millie, you don’t know what you’re doing to me. I want to eat you up. I want to smother you in some of your famous clotted cream and lick it off.’ Millie stood back, swaying slightly. She felt unhinged by longing. She knew she must look it. ‘Sounds messy,’ she whispered, in an attempt for control. Jed caught her to him again. ‘Oh, it would be delightfully, sinfully messy.’ He kissed her again. ‘And so much fun.’ It was all threatening to get out of hand. Millie didn’t know whether to be furious when Tessa’s cheery voice interrupted them – or relieved. ‘Morning, kiddo. I’ll just go and put the bread inside then, shall I?’ She went past with a giggle. Peeling herself off Jed and giving him a regretful glance, Millie followed Tessa into the caf?. ‘I see you’re finally getting your fun, then, our Mil.’ Tessa slammed the basket of bread onto the nearest table. ‘Well I was.’ Millie pulled a face. ‘Before you so rudely interrupted.’ ‘Soz.’ Tessa giggled and peered out to where Jed was playing with Trevor. He was leaning against the low wall that divided the sun terrace from the steps down to the beach and was trying to teach the dog to shake paws. ‘Heard he took you to some swanky-wanky place the other night. Zoe’s right, though, he’s a treat for the eyes. Get a load of those thighs. You could crack walnuts with them. Blimey.’ Millie decided she’d better bring Tessa to order. ‘Invoice?’ ‘On top of the bloomers,’ she replied, still staring blatantly at Jed. ‘Gotta love a blonde man, haven’t you?’ She screwed her eyes up to see better. ‘Come to think about it, he looks familiar. Where have I seen him before?’ Millie, shoving the invoice into a folder behind the counter, didn’t reply immediately. ‘You’ve probably seen him about town.’ She looked up, amused to see Tessa still staring. ‘He’s not easy to forget, is he?’ ‘You’re right there, bab. Bugger, hope it’s just the weather making me hot and not an early menopause. He’s got hormones I’d forgotten I ever had going bananas.’ Millie giggled. She couldn’t disagree. ‘You got time for a coffee?’ Tessa finally focused. ‘No kiddo, I’m running late this morning. Gotta go.’ She gave an earthy cackle. ‘I’ll leave you to the tender mercies of your hot friend out there.’ Fanning her face comically, she swept out. Millie heard her trill goodbye, waited until the coast was clear and then dragged a couple of chairs into the sun. ‘Can I get you a coffee, Jed?’ He slid off the wall in such a sinuous way, Millie had a sudden and very intense longing to forget all about the caf? and drag him up to bed. ‘I’d rather get you.’ He pulled her to him for another kiss. Millie’s insides went to liquid and her legs threatened to give way. She pushed him off. ‘Coffee? Toast?’ she asked on a breathless giggle. ‘Well, I am hungry,’ he replied dangerously, gazing at her lower lip with intent. ‘I have a deep, deep hunger for you.’ ‘You’ll have to make do with raisin toast, I’m afraid.’ ‘Can’t I have you on toast?’ ‘No!’ Millie pushed him away and enjoyed his pout. ‘God, you’re so gorgeous when you sulk.’ She let him kiss her one more time and then escaped to the safety of her kitchen. Thirty minutes later, Jed sat on the sun terrace on one of her rickety chairs, his feet up on the wall, staring out to sea. He drank the last of his coffee. ‘It’s so bloody gorgeous here. Devon heaven.’ ‘There talks a man full of food.’ Jed gave her a wicked look. ‘You’ve satisfied one kind of hunger, certainly.’ ‘Wish you’d stop flirting. I’ve got a day of work in front of me.’ ‘Do you really wish that?’ ‘No. But it’s true that I’ve got to work. There’s loads to do.’ Millie went on to explain the plans for the caf?’s re-launch. ‘That’s why I’m trying out the beetroot and chocolate cake, to make the right colour for a Valentine’s party.’ She glanced back at the caf?. The bright sunshine made it appear all the more scruffy this morning. She frowned. ‘Something wrong?’ He was always so quick at picking up on her mood. She wished she could do the same with him. Sometimes to her Jed was a riddle wrapped up in an enigma. ‘I’m confident I can put on a good party, but the caf? itself just looks so tired.’ Jed batted a hand at an overly persistent gull that was after toast crumbs and paused before he answered. ‘Your windows are an asset; the way they look out onto the sea. Have you ever thought about putting in the kind that open like doors? Then you could bring the outside in and those customers who couldn’t find a table out here wouldn’t mind eating inside so much. They’re not patio doors exactly, but a bit classier. Really popular in bars and restaurants in Scandinavia, Stockholm especially. You could also install heaters out here to take away the sting of the cold. Then you could use this space for more of the year.’ As Millie had never been further north than Birmingham, she hadn’t a clue what a Stockholm bar might look like, let alone their fancy windows. Patio heaters were something she’d long wanted to buy but had never been able to afford; she’d need at least eight. And that was the crux of the matter. His ideas, although appealing, sounded way too expensive. ‘Sounds great,’ she answered, eventually. ‘But I can’t afford to splash out on a big revamp. That’s going to have to wait until next year. That’s if I still have a business.’ Jed gave her a keen look. ‘That bad, eh?’ Millie nodded, miserably. Jed shifted uncomfortably. There was a beat. ‘Well, we’ll simply have to do a paint job, then.’ Millie sat up. This sounded more like what she had in mind. ‘I could sand the tables down, paint them something pretty. I love ice-cream colours, you know, cream and baby pink and pistachio green.’ ‘They would be gorgeous, but do you still want to keep the mural?’ ‘Yes, I love it, although it needs touching up.’ ‘I suppose we haven’t much time, have we, before the party, I mean?’ Millie shook her head. ‘Then can I suggest sticking to the colours in the mural – turquoise and pink – for the moment and we’ll add in some hot pink and lime green into the scheme to freshen it up. You can always change the colours next year, when you do your complete overhaul. Do you know what’s under the lino?’ ‘No, but it’s horrible, isn’t it? Went down in my parents’ day.’ Jed grinned. ‘And it’s seen better days. If there are floorboards underneath we can paint them white. How are you fixed this weekend?’ ‘But I have to open the caf?!’ ‘Are you expecting much trade?’ Millie shrugged. These days she never expected much trade, but she wasn’t going to admit as much to Jed. ‘Rain’s forecast, but you never know.’ ‘Then you’ll just have to take a chance. Far better to close down completely and then open with a dramatic flourish. How long have you got until the party?’ ‘Just over a week,’ Millie answered, a little dazed by his enthusiasm. For someone who had told her he was a management consultant, he seemed to know an awful lot about interior design. Jed jumped up and stretched. ‘Better go and buy some paint, then.’ When Millie rose to join him, he shook his head. ‘You stay here. Plan the menu with lots of old-fashioned sticky stuff and carbs. All my favourites. See you later.’ He’d kissed her and was gone before Millie had time to react. She heard him gun the engine of the Golf along the promenade road. ‘Better rally the troops,’ she said to the gull that was attacking the leftover toast on her plate. ‘I think we’ll need some help.’ She giggled. ‘Do you think two loved-up pensioners and a couple of teenagers are up for a bit of D.I.Y. this weekend? Come on, Trev,’ she said to the dog. ‘At this rate we’ll have to tie a paintbrush to your tail as well. It’s about time you earned your keep.’ She gathered the plates and mugs and went into the caf?, humming. With Jed’s enthusiasm filling her with a warm glow, she felt more positive than she had for a long time. Chapter 17 (#ulink_3f72b2b6-06b1-5acc-b1f3-4e9204e16774) The promised rain blew itself out in the night, leaving a warm, breezily-perfect seaside Saturday. The troops had answered the call to arms. Zoe dragged a sleepy Sean along, Arthur and Biddy came in bickering as usual and Sean had even persuaded an embarrassed Ken to come. He explained that Tessa couldn’t make it as she had a lot on. ‘Don’t worry, Ken,’ Millie laughed. ‘I’ll make sure I have something really evil for her to do as penance.’ ‘She’s made a whole load of sandwiches for us for later. On her best granary and seeded. Shall I stick them in the fridge?’ Ken gave a shuttered glance at Sean and disappeared into the kitchen. Millie’s heart sang. Tessa was such a good friend. ‘That’s nice. I’ll get some bacon and eggs on for everyone and, as soon as Jed turns up with the paint, we can get started.’ On cue, Jed appeared, laden down with the first of the cans of paint. As Sean helped him carry in the rest, Biddy came over and began unravelling lengths of material from a plastic bag. ‘Thought you’d like these,’ she boomed. ‘Seem to be back in fashion for some reason I can’t fathom.’ She held up a length of bunting, beautifully crafted into exquisite little triangles. ‘Oh, Biddy,’ Millie gasped. ‘They’re perfect.’ She turned one or two over, examining the perfect stitching. ‘The colours are just right. Pinks and greens and I love this sea-blue pattern.’ ‘Well, I knew the right colours from the aprons I make for you.’ ‘And they’re even slightly padded.’ ‘Won’t look as flimsy as some you can buy,’ Biddy said gruffly. Millie flung her arms around the older woman. ‘Thank you so much. I love them!’ ‘Oh, enough with your fuss. Where’s this breakfast you promised us? Army can’t march on an empty stomach, can it?’ By lunchtime, the caf? was already looking transformed. Millie had squashed down her panic at missing out on any customers and had instead made the most of the sunshine by getting everyone to pile up the chairs and tables outside. Ken had brightened up his mural, repainting the turquoise to make it even more vivid. He’d also begun to add snatches of gold paint as highlights. Jed had peeled back a corner of the lino and declared there were floorboards underneath. He and Sean stripped it out and had sanded half the floor in readiness for painting. Meanwhile, Arthur took charge on the terrace. He divided the chairs and tables into three groups and had Millie painting some white. Zoe was in charge of the hot pink (which today matched her hair) while he applied the lime green. Biddy, having peered at the colours in the paint pots, had disappeared for a while. When she returned she set herself up in some shade outside and began furiously sewing cushion covers in similar fabrics to the ones she had used for the bunting, but in bright pink and green. Millie balanced her paintbrush on top of the tin. ‘Break for lunch in a minute, guys?’ To the groans of relief, she went over to have a look at what Biddy had been doing. ‘They’re going to look fabulous.’ She perched on the wall and picked up one cover which Biddy had already finished. ‘Don’t you get paint all over them!’ ‘I won’t.’ Millie turned it over, peering closer. ‘It’s so beautifully stitched.’ ‘We can get some cheap foam from Dorchester market and cut it into the right shapes for cushions.’ ‘That’s a great idea, Biddy.’ Sean, Jed and Ken joined them on the terrace. They brought out the enormous trays of Tessa’s sandwiches and put them on one of the unpainted tables. Zoe cheered and began to distribute food. Everyone looked a little paint-stained and weary but wore huge smiles. Millie watched for a moment as her team ate as if starving. She felt truly blessed to have such good friends. She turned her attention back to the cushion covers Biddy was sewing. One had an appliqu? pattern. The patterns clashed and yet worked together perfectly. ‘You’re so clever. I couldn’t do anything like that in a million years.’ ‘What did you say?’ Biddy looked up. Millie repeated, making sure she enunciated her words. ‘Yes well,’ Biddy sniffed. ‘It don’t do if folk are all good at the same thing. And cooking’s what you do.’ It was the closest to a compliment Millie had ever heard Biddy utter. To anyone. ‘Thank you, Biddy. That means a lot. Is that what you did as a career; sewing?’ Biddy glared at her over her glasses. ‘Seamstress? Oh no, I only sew for a hobby. For a job, I was a madam.’ Chapter 18 (#ulink_43654745-c289-5972-9209-c90a48ff4b42) Maybe it was the enclosed space that made Biddy’s words louder. Or maybe she had her hearing aid adjusted incorrectly and felt she had to yell. Whatever the reason, the statement bounced off the wall behind her and out into the small group. All eating ceased as they, as one, turned to her. Silence. ‘Sorry Biddy, you were a what?’ Biddy starred at Millie, owlishly. ‘Thought you knew. Don’t make no secret of it. I was in charge of a house in south London.’ ‘A house of –’ ‘Ill repute they likes to call it.’ Biddy shrugged and the gesture made her seem much younger and altogether far more mischievous. The penny dropped. ‘Your girls! The ones you talk about –’ ‘Ah! My girls. Had twelve of them working for me. Some for nearly twenty years. Good times.’ Biddy suddenly became loquacious. ‘Had some very eminent clients, we did. Although we had a real problem when the gardener decided to chop the nettles down.’ She leaned nearer but didn’t bother to lower her voice. ‘Some of the clients liked a good thrashing with them. Never saw the attraction of it myself, but each to his own.’ For once Millie had absolutely nothing to say. ‘Way to go, Biddy!’ Zoe cackled. ‘Don’t you “way to go” me, young lady.’ ‘No indeed.’ Millie rose, stunned. ‘I’ll make some tea, shall I? And find some lemonade. I made some earlier.’ She rushed for the sanctuary of her kitchen. Splashing cold water onto her burning face, she giggled. Who would have thought it? She was beginning to see Biddy in a whole new light. Unfortunately, it seemed, so was Arthur. When she returned to the little group outside, bearing a tray of drinks, it was to uproar. Zoe took a glass of lemonade from her and muttered, ‘Biddy and Granddad are having a mega row. Turns out Biddy loaned Granddad some money for Daisy’s op and he’s got some beef about it coming from her,’ at this Zoe made speech marks with her fingers, ‘ill-gotten gains.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘As if!’ ‘My good man,’ Biddy was roaring, ‘that money came from an ISA!’ ‘I want no part of it. You can have it back.’ ‘Come on, Granddad, if it means Daisy can have the operation,’ Zoe coaxed. ‘No, Zoe, I’ll return it.’ Arthur pulled himself up to his full five-feet five. ‘I’d rather take out a loan on the house than take dirty money.’ Biddy stood up, sewing materials dropping unheeded. Millie was relieved to see Jed grab Trevor’s collar and try to soothe him. The dog was dancing around, over-excited at the raised voices and she didn’t want a needle embedded in his paw. ‘Dirty money, you say,’ Biddy screeched, to the alarm of a family strolling on the prom. ‘Dirty money! Ah, yes, there’s always those who take that attitude. The ones who walk past you in the street, hanging on the arms of their wives and sneering at you. And you can be sure they’re the same men who come knocking at your door, wanting to be dressed in a nappy and bottle-fed!’ She gathered her stuff and shoved it into a plastic bag. ‘Millie, I will continue my sewing at home, if I may. I know where I’m not wanted!’ Whistling for Elvis to follow, she swept off, her nose in the air and scraps of material dangling out of the bag and sweeping a trail on the sandy pavement. ‘Granddad!’ Zoe cried. ‘Honestly, how could you?’ Arthur turned on her. ‘I do not want to take anything from a woman like that.’ ‘What do you mean? She’s your friend. What she did in the past doesn’t change that.’ Not for the first time Millie admired Zoe’s wise, old head. Feeling the need to calm everything down, she said, ‘Come on, let’s sit down and have a cup of tea. Jed, can you take this tray, it’s making my arms ache.’ She nodded to the only other table they hadn’t got around to painting yet. ‘Put it on there, would you?’ He came to her and, relieving her of it, whispered in her ear, ‘What a shame Biddy’s gone. I’d rather hoped to hear more about what she did with the nettles.’ Millie gave him a withering look. ‘Sit down, Arthur, and have some tea. There you go,’ she passed him a mug. ‘It’s just how you like it. Strong and sugary.’ ‘It all goes on in these seaside towns, doesn’t it? Who would have thought it of Biddy, of all people?’ Jed sat on the wall, looking highly amused. ‘I would for one,’ Zoe put in. ‘Have you seen the size of her house?’ Jed shook his head. ‘It’s the big one on the hill, just past the newsagents. You need to have done something interesting to bring in the filthy lucre to pay for that.’ She gave a knowing wink. ‘Hey, I guess we really are talking filthy lucre.’ ‘Zoe, my girl, I would prefer you to stop talking like that,’ Arthur said, sharply. ‘Sorry, Granddad.’ The group sat in silence once more, reviewing their opinion of Biddy. ‘Wonder if she used dogs? In the business, I mean,’ Zoe piped up. ‘She said she’s always owned one.’ ‘Zoe!’ Arthur roared. ‘Not helpful, Zoe,’ Millie admonished. She motioned for the girl to have another sandwich in the hope of shutting her up. ‘Is Daisy’s operation very expensive?’ Jed asked unexpectedly. He helped himself to a glass of lemonade and emptied it in two swallows. Millie thanked him silently for changing the subject and then cursed as the question appeared to upset Arthur even more. ‘Yes,’ was the only answer Arthur could manage. Millie saw his hands shake as they gripped his mug of tea. Some of it slopped out onto the white concrete. Sean and Ken, having grabbed a drink, edged away and went to sit on the wall at the far end of the terrace, ostensibly watching an impromptu cricket match taking place on the beach. ‘It’s likely to be about five thousand quid,’ Zoe said, when it became obvious Arthur couldn’t trust himself to explain further. ‘Jeez.’ Jed’s eyebrows rose. ‘I had no idea it would cost so much.’ Arthur remained silent for a long time, drank his tea and visibly pulled himself together. Then he began to speak. It was as if he was relieved to talk about something else, no matter how equally distressing. ‘The X-Rays show that the old girl’s lump is in an awkward spot.’ He chewed his lip. ‘It’s one reason I missed it. It’s growing quickly now, for some reason. They don’t know why. And the tests have come back, but they’re inconclusive. No one knows if it’s malignant.’ He shuddered. ‘We won’t know until she’s had the operation and they examine the tumour.’ Millie sat next to him and put an arm around his thin shoulders. ‘That’s awful. Poor, poor Daisy.’ She went on, as gently as she could, ‘But why did you need to borrow from Biddy? Are you sure your pet insurance couldn’t cover the cost?’ Arthur sniffed, removed his glasses and polished them busily. His face looked strangely naked without them. And vulnerable. ‘Daisy’s only chance of survival is to go to a specialist surgery unit in Bristol. It’s beyond my policy.’ ‘They have such places? For dogs?’ Jed asked. ‘I never knew.’ Trevor put his front paws on Millie’s lap and, for once, she didn’t tell him to get down. She reached for his curly head and tickled under his chin for comfort. She was pretty sure Trevor understood every word of what was being said. His excitement at the shouting had dissipated and he was as dejected as the rest of them. She gazed into his brown-button eyes. He was so dear to her. She could only too easily imagine the pain of being in Arthur’s position. Maybe she could forgive the man’s harsh words to Biddy. He must be worried out of his mind. The trouble was, he’d now lost his only chance to pay for the operation. She wished she were in a position to help. ‘Let’s just hope the tumour is benign,’ she said, going for briskly optimistic, the words sounding hollow, even to her. The group sank into yet another silence. An even gloomier one this time. ‘Which vet do you use, Arthur?’ Jed asked. Arthur began to explain. Millie only half-listened. Jed had been wonderful today. Refusing to take money for the paint, labouring until he was hot and grubby-looking and now he was taking a real interest in Arthur and poor Daisy. He seemed really concerned about them. Love for him blossomed. As Arthur talked, she drank in Jed’s beautiful face and the warmth in his dark eyes. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. If she’d thought she’d been in love before, with other boyfriends, the feelings she’d felt for other men paled into insignificance to how she felt about Jed. This was on a whole other level. Despite all her worries, a joyful love for Jed filled her. It was both scary and exhilarating. And yet, a little wormy voice of caution inside her warned, you’ve only known him for a few weeks! She silenced it. ‘I don’t care,’ she muttered. ‘I love this man. I could love him with my whole being. Spend my life with him. Have his children.’ Realising her mouth was dry she reached for a glass of lemonade and drank it down in one. She was suddenly very, very hot. ‘You okay, Mil?’ Zoe asked. ‘You’re a bit flushed.’ She gave the girl a tight grin. ‘I’m fine. I hate to say this and I hate to be unsympathetic about Daisy, but I suppose, if everyone has eaten, do you think we ought to go back to work?’ And, to good-natured groans and mutterings of what a slave driver she was, they did. Once everyone had said weary goodbyes, with the promise to return the following day, Millie turned to Jed and offered to cook him supper. To her disappointment, he refused, saying his parents were staying in Lyme and they expected him for dinner. She went up to the flat, her entire being on fire from Jed’s goodbye kisses. Trevor, worn out from all the excitement, trailed up the steps behind her, his tail drooping. It had been an exhausting day, even without the emotional fallout from Arthur and Biddy’s argument. Millie prayed they’d make up. Zoe had promised to pop over to Biddy’s in an attempt to build bridges. Too preoccupied to eat, Millie opened a bottle of wine and drew her favourite chair to the picture window, which was the best feature of the flat. It mirrored the ones in the caf? below and looked straight out, across the beach, to open sea. The days were lengthening. No matter how wild and wet a winter they’d had, spring was usually quick in coming to this part of the coast. Millie opened a window. Along with the chatter of people wandering past below, the breeze brought in warm salty air from the sea and the distant cackles of gulls before they settled for the night. Trevor came to her and rested his head on her knee, giving a heartfelt sigh. ‘Know what you mean, Trev. It’s been quite a day.’ She tugged gently on his woolly ears and enjoyed the warmth of his little body against her leg. Maybe it was just tiredness but she’d never felt more content. However, any relaxation was short-lived. Stretching out muscles stiff from painting, Millie got up, ignored Trevor’s grumbles and took her wine to the kitchen. She had work to do. Chapter 19 (#ulink_0a48b750-425e-524f-aff5-1a8977b42067) Millie forced herself up and out of bed early the following morning. She needed to walk Trevor before another day working on the caf?. On her return from a blissfully solitary walk on the beach, one of the perks of rising at daybreak, she unlocked the caf? and stood for a minute, appraising the work done so far. She’d been worried the bright colours they were adding might be too much – too busy in such a small space. Jed and Sean had given the floor its first coat of white paint before finishing yesterday and she could already see how it would calm everything down. Once the re-painted furniture was back in, it would be perfect. Or as perfect as her present budget allowed. ‘Hi, Millie.’ Millie turned to see Tessa standing in the doorway. She began to tease her friend about bailing on her yesterday, but then saw her pinched and tense face. ‘Can I have a word?’ ‘Of course you can. Let’s sit outside, though. I can’t guarantee the paint’s dry in here.’ They perched on the low wall next to the aubrieta, which had suddenly blossomed into a vivid purple cascade. ‘Is everything alright, Tess? The boys are okay, aren’t they? Sean looked hale and hearty yesterday. It’s not Ken? He did look a bit preoccupied, come to think of it, but he’s done a fantastic job on retouching the mural. It’s as good as new.’ Tessa looked out to sea and blinked in the bright sunshine. She shook her head. ‘No, everyone’s fine. I’ve got something to say to you. Something that won’t be very good to hear, kiddo.’ Millie’s stomach did that peculiar flipping-over thing that happens when you fear you’re about to receive bad news. She’d rarely seen her best friend so serious. She reached out a hand. ‘God, Tessa, what’s wrong?’ ‘Don’t be nice, Millie, alright? I’ve got this new job, see.’ ‘Well, that’s a good thing.’ ‘Making bread.’ ‘Even better.’ Millie forced a jolly note into her voice, but she knew what was coming. Just knew it. ‘Blue Elephant have taken me on to do their range of artisan breads.’ Millie nodded. Part of her noticed how far out the tide had gone this morning. A man was throwing a tennis ball to his Labrador. The dog was barking excitedly. A family were heading out to the rocks at the edge of the harbour wall. Making the most of the low tide to do some rock-pooling. The sun hit hard off the wet sand and made her eyes water. It made it difficult to see. Part of her was aware Tessa was still talking. Giving reasons. Making excuses. ‘And it means I won’t have time to do both. I just won’t be able to supply you with bread as well as them and they –’ ‘Pay more,’ Millie finished. She added in a monotone, ‘Of course they would.’ ‘Aw, Millie, I’m so sorry, it’s just with Ken not bringing much in and that exhibition of his making a loss, I didn’t have a choice. The kids aren’t getting any cheaper and Louis looks like he’ll get to university and –’ Millie put up her hand to stop the flow of hopes for Tessa and Ken’s middle son. ‘Was that why you were at Blue Elephant on the afternoon of their launch?’ ‘Me? Oh, you saw me, did you? Yes, the manager asked me to go in for a meeting. To discuss the range he wants me to develop. They want me to start immediately, but didn’t give me much choice in the matter, to be honest.’ Tessa added lamely. ‘Where will you get your bread from now?’ ‘Bread?’ Millie tried to focus. ‘I don’t know. I can make some, but I’m not a bread- baker in your league. Haven’t got the time.’ ‘Maybe Berringtons will let you have some?’ Tessa named the town baker. She was obviously trying to be helpful. ‘Yes, that’s possible.’ Millie stood up. She couldn’t face talking to Tessa any more. Was afraid of saying too much, of ruining their friendship beyond repair. ‘And now, if you don’t mind, I’ve a busy day in front of me.’ Tessa stood too. ‘Yeah, okay.’ She turned to go and then stopped. She turned back to Millie, who was staring unseeing out to sea. ‘Mil, I’m really sorry. I hope – well, I hope you’ll be able to see why I had to do it. I hope –’ ‘Yes, Tessa?’ Millie’s voice was steely. Tessa flinched. ‘We can still be friends, right?’ Millie stared at her. The rational part of her understood Tessa’s decision. But this was her friend. Her best friend. It felt like the worst kind of betrayal. ‘Time will tell, Tessa,’ she said quietly, desperate not to let the hurt show. ‘I think we just need some time apart right now, don’t we?’ And, with that, she turned on her heel and went into the caf?. Chapter 20 (#ulink_63267eb0-bc90-5784-bb69-4f364400bdd7) It was a slightly depleted work party that trailed in an hour later. Not surprisingly, Ken didn’t show up, although Sean did. When Arthur arrived, with Zoe in tow, they made a huge fuss over a wriggling Trevor. ‘No Biddy,’ Zoe whispered, when Arthur was busy checking whether the paintbrushes had been properly cleaned the night before. ‘She’s still dead cross over what Granddad said, but she promised to do some sewing at home.’ Poor Biddy. With all the fuss over Daisy’s operation, her hurt had been overlooked yesterday. ‘Is she okay?’ Millie asked. Zoe pulled a face. ‘Seemed like it. Guess she’s used to it, what with once being a sex worker. Must make you hard as nails. I’ll try to work on Granddad. Got a feeling if he does some major-league grovelling, she’ll come round.’ ‘I hope so. Friendship’s important.’ ‘Yeah and those two are besties, even though they argue like mad.’ Millie wondered if her own friendship with Tessa would ever recover. Pledging to keep herself busy, she hoped it would stop her dwelling on what Tessa had done. Hard work had eased the grief once before in her life and it might be the salve again. It was a repeat of the day before, in many ways. After Millie had cooked a huge breakfast, they got to work. Jed and Sean worked on the floor once more. They sanded down the white paint from yesterday, giving it a distressed feel and then concentrated on the walls not covered by Ken’s mural, painting them white too. Arthur and Zoe gave the furniture they’d painted yesterday a quick second coat and put it in the sun. Once dry, Millie had a go at sanding edges and corners, to make it look shabby chic. Once they got the okay from Jed, they carried it all back inside. It had been the quickest of make-overs and not the most thorough but it was a definite improvement. As Millie had hoped, once the brightly painted tables and chairs were in place, the whole look came together. The shabby-chic effect even disguised some of the more hurried paintwork. They stood on the sun terrace, gazing in at their hard work. ‘It’s absolutely gorgeous,’ Millie breathed, hardly able to believe they had achieved so much in just two days. ‘It’s mint,’ Zoe put in. ‘Biddy’s getting the cushion covers over tomorrow,’ she added in a whisper, as Arthur came to stand with them to admire their handiwork. ‘My dear girl, what an alteration!’ he said. ‘It certainly is and I couldn’t have done it without you guys.’ Millie put her arms around Zoe and Arthur. ‘You’ve been brilliant,’ she managed, before her voice broke with emotion. Jed slung an arm around Sean and added, ‘Can’t beat teamwork.’ He grinned over at her making her feel happy and a bit dizzy all at the same time. The caf? did, indeed, look transformed. The white floor and walls gleamed against the pink-and-green furniture and the touches of gold that Ken had applied to his pink-and- turquoise mural added glamour. ‘It just looks all pulled together,’ Millie began, ‘without seeming too –’ ‘Contrived,’ Jed finished for her. ‘Exactly!’ They gazed happily at one another. Arthur, as if sensing the intimacy between them, coughed and disentangled himself. ‘Well, I’d best be off. Don’t like to leave Daisy on her own, even if all she does is sleep at the moment.’ ‘Oh Arthur – and everyone else, before you go,’ Millie said, ‘I’ve got a present for you all. It’s only a gesture, I’m afraid, but I thought, no I needed to do something to thank you for all your hard work. Just hang on for a minute, will you?’ She disappeared into the caf?, carefully avoiding some of the still-wet paint and went through to the kitchen. She returned a minute later, carrying a tower of cake boxes and with an excited Trevor dancing around her ankles. ‘Like I said, it’s only a gesture and doesn’t in any way …’ her voice trailed off. She’d been up half the night baking the cakes. It was the only way she could think of, or afford, to thank them, but it seemed too little a reward. Putting the boxes carefully on one of the tables they’d left outside, she handed Jed the first one. ‘Victoria sponge for you. I know how much you like it. Fresh cream, of course.’ Beaming, Jed opened up the box. ‘Millie,’ he exclaimed, ‘you’ve iced the top in Millie Vanilla’s colours!’ He folded back the card lid for the others to see. Iced in pink and turquoise were the words, “Jed, I can’t thank you enough, but hope this sugary sweetness will.” ‘I love it,’ he said, his dark eyes warm. ‘A special apricot, brandy and almond tray bake for you, Arthur, and I’ve done some doggie biscuits for Daisy too.’ She handed him his boxes. ‘Oh, my dear girl, you shouldn’t have! My favourite! And Daisy will love hers too.’ ‘Chocolate and marshmallow for you, Zoe. Natch!’ ‘Natch!’ Zoe answered and took her cake. ‘Thanks, Mil, that’s ace. Think Mum might nick a bit of this.’ ‘She’s more than welcome.’ ‘And Sean, I hope you don’t mind sharing but I’ve made you all some cupcakes. I know Tessa and the boys like them too.’ Sean took his box, then put it back down on the table and enveloped Millie in a bear hug. ‘Thanks so much, Millie,’ he whispered in a voice gruff with emotion. ‘What Mum did to you was wrong. I told her, you know. I’m dead against this new job.’ For the first time Millie could see what Zoe saw in him. Letting him hug her in his scrawny grip for a second, she fought against tears. ‘Thank you, Sean. I appreciate that.’ Millie picked up the last boxes and handed them to Zoe. ‘Scones with cream and jam for Biddy and shortbread for Elvis. Could you get them to her?’ ‘No prob. Sean and I will drop them off on the way home.’ ‘Thanks, Zoe, and thank you all so much.’ ‘Yeah yeah, we get the picture,’ Zoe said, stopping the mood getting maudlin. ‘What does Biddy always say about people who cry too much?’ ‘Eyes too near the bladder,’ Arthur supplied. ‘That’s it. She wants to see you, Granddad, by the way. I think flowers are the order of the day, don’t you? Come on,’ she slipped an arm through his. ‘We can order them online. Next-day delivery and she’ll be made up. After you’ve said sorry, of course.’ ‘Zoe, my girl,’ Arthur laughed. ‘How did you get so wise so young?’ ‘Dunno,’ she replied wide-eyed. ‘It’s just a genius talent I have.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘Or good genes.’ With Sean trailing in their wake, carrying the mountain of cake boxes, they wandered off in the direction of the promenade. As they went, Millie could hear Zoe instructing Arthur on just how best to win Biddy round. ‘Well, Emilia Fudge,’ said Jed coming to her and slipping his arms around her. ‘I think this weekend has been a success.’ Glancing into the caf? and then refocusing on him, she agreed, ‘Well, Jed Henville, I think you might just be right.’ The kiss that followed was as sweet and satisfying as any of the cakes she baked. Sweeter. Chapter 21 (#ulink_30b4cf09-6c4e-5759-afb1-7c87898a8e76) ‘Can you stay for supper tonight?’ Millie tried to keep it light, not wanting to seem desperate. She’d kept the hurt that Tessa had inflicted to herself all day. Had been too busy to dwell on it, but now all the work was finished, she felt the tension in her shoulders soften and, with it, a need for human comfort. The tears threatened a return. ‘I think that’s an offer I can’t resist.’ Jed grinned boyishly. ‘And of course I’m –’ ‘Starving. Of course you are!’ She laughed. ‘Taken as a given. Reaching up, she tweaked a long lock of hair that flopped over his tanned face. ‘You have the most fetching streak of white paint.’ Jed pulled a face. ‘Do I?’ ‘And another smudge of it on your nose.’ Millie reached up to kiss it. ‘I might need to borrow your shower.’ ‘I think that can be arranged.’ He followed her up to the flat, with Trevor weaving between their legs and getting in the way. Millie unlocked the door and, feeling self-conscious, led him into the sitting room. It must be very different to the places he was used to. She needn’t have worried. Jed went straight to the window and stood, hands on hips, drinking in the view. ‘What a fantastic place to live!’ He turned to her, eyes alight. ‘You look right out over the sea. You must never tire of it.’ Millie joined him. It was true. She nodded. ‘The view’s never the same two days running. But I love it best in the winter when it’s stormy.’ Jed put his arm loosely around her shoulders. ‘I can imagine. Do the storms ever reach you up here?’ ‘They can do. I’ve had one or two windows smashed by pebbles thrown up by the sea. It’s not much of a sacrifice to live here, though.’ ‘I can see why you love it so.’ Jed turned her to him and pulled her closer. His mouth found hers and his hand cupped her breast. She pushed him away. Reluctantly. Much as she wanted this man, she needed a shower first. ‘I’ll sort you out some towels.’ Jed nodded but the desire in his eyes was unmistakable. ‘And then food. I’ve an idea I’ll need all my stamina for later.’ Millie went first, leaving Jed engrossed in the news on TV. While he showered, she frowned over the meagre contents of her kitchen cupboards and wondered what to cook. When Jed emerged, with wet hair and smelling of her almond-blossom shower gel, she nearly jumped on him there and then. Practicalities won by a nose. ‘Just salad and some new potatoes, I’m afraid,’ she explained, as they sat at her tiny table in the kitchen. ‘But I’ve made some mango chicken to go with it.’ She tried to concentrate on the food and failed. Jed looked gorgeous with his hair damp and curling around his collar. The thought of all that clean, tanned skin under his shirt and chinos was making her weak with desire. ‘Sounds great. And we’ve cake for pudding!’ Jed was obviously only thinking of one type of hunger. ‘Oh yes, your sponge cake. Hope it’s okay. I rather threw them together late last night.’ ‘It’ll be perfect,’ Jed declared confidently. ‘Everything you touch is perfect.’ Millie laughed, embarrassed. ‘Not sure about that.’ He reached over and took her hand. ‘It’s true,’ he said, simply, gazing into her eyes. They knew what was coming. The promise of it vibrated in the air. Thrummed between them. And they both knew that the longer they deferred it, the sweeter it would taste. ‘I’ll open some wine, shall I?’ he added. Millie couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. Was hollowed out with desire for the man. She managed a nod. He rooted around in the fridge and found the half-full bottle of white she’d begun last night. He filled their glasses. ‘You know, I really admire how you’re right in the middle of your community.’ Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». 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