A Recipe for Love

Chapter Twelve

The Foresters was quieter than normal for a Friday night and Ravi was already at the bar when Adam walked in, two pints standing in front of him. They grabbed a table in the corner, out of line of sight from the big TV – because Adam was famously incapable of concentrating on anything anybody said to him while there was a football match between two teams he had no interest in being played anywhere in his peripheral vision.

‘I’m really sorry about your dad.’

Adam nodded. ‘Thanks.’ He shrugged. He still wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say when people expressed their sympathy. Claiming to be fine felt like he was disregarding his father’s life and death, but nobody wanted to actually hear about how awful everything had turned, did they? All he really wanted to do was change the subject. ‘Tell me about your lot.’

Ravi grinned and, as Adam knew he would, pulled out his phone for a rundown of the most recent photos of the twins. Ila and Asha toddling along the beach not more than a hundred yards from where Adam and Ravi were sitting now. Ila and Asha clinging to Sam’s hands. Ila and Asha balanced one on each of Ravi’s knees. Ila and Asha beaming for the camera with Ravi, Sam and their bio-mum Linzi.

‘They’ve started nursery,’ Ravi added. ‘Sam doesn’t know what to do with himself.’

‘What’s he working on?’

‘Oh, ghostwriting for whatserface. Big tell-all autobiography thing.’

‘Which whatserface?’

‘Politician woman. The one with the suits.’

‘Scottish politician?’

‘Nah. English.’ Ravi shrugged. ‘Anyway he’s bitching about the deadline but still not actually writing anything. Same old, same old.’

‘What about you?’ Ravi put down his pint. ‘I’d assumed you’d have a butler to bring us beers by now.’

Adam shook his head. ‘You wouldn’t travel with a butler.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

‘A valet maybe.’ He grinned. ‘Sorry. No man servants. No servants at all. Well there’s Flinty but I don’t think we’re actually paying her.’ Given that she clearly hadn’t, despite her ongoing protestations, retired, he ought to do something about that.

‘Well what’s the point in being a baron?’

Adam wasn’t sure there was much point at all. ‘It feels like a lot of responsibility.’

‘It is on your own.’

Oh. Yeah. Adam winced.

‘What?’

‘It’s been a really busy few weeks.’

‘I get it.’

‘Really really busy,’ Adam emphasised, determinedly getting his excuses in first.

‘Right?’

‘Like so busy it would be completely understandable if a man forgot to tell his best mate he’d got engaged?’

Ravi’s pint froze inches from his lips. ‘You got what?’

‘Engaged.’

‘Who to? Sorry mate. I didn’t even know you were going out with anyone.’

‘Yeah. That’s cos I wasn’t.’ Adam took a deep drag of beer. ‘So you remember I went off on that stag thing for Posh Harry?’

‘You’re an actual laird. You can’t call him that any more.’

Probably fair. ‘Fine. Well anyway when I was out there I met somebody and we got on and we got engaged.’

‘Well I kinda guessed there was someone from the eternally extended holiday.’

Adam nodded.

‘I didn’t realise you’d brought her home with you though.’ He frowned. ‘So you met what? Six, seven weeks ago?’

‘About that.’

‘Wow. I’ve seen you spend longer choosing border plants.’

That was true. Adam didn’t really know how to explain it. ‘When you know you know.’

Ravi nodded. ‘I guess you do. Come on then. Who is she? When do I meet her?’

Adam found a photo of Bella on his phone, a selfie taken the very first night they’d met, faces squashed together in the frame, lit by the moon and the fairy lights that lined the roof of the beach bar. Ravi grinned. ‘Well she’s out of your league.’

‘Thanks. She’s Bella,’ he explained. ‘She’s a chef.’

‘And where is she now?’

‘At Lowbridge.’

‘So she’s living there? Or staying there?’ Ravi frowned.

‘Staying I guess.’ He paused. ‘She’s got lots of ideas for things we could do there though.’ Adam shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I’ve had an offer to buy the whole place.’

Ravi leaned back in his seat. Adam knew his friend well enough to recognise that he was thinking carefully, trying to formulate a response that was clear but tactful. It was the expression he had when working out how to tell good people that they didn’t have work for them on the next project, or when readying himself to explain to Adam that he had to scale back a design to something objectively less exciting but more in line with the client’s budget. ‘So are you thinking of selling?’

Adam’s instinct was to shake his head, to pretend that it wasn’t even an option, but Ravi was part of another world. It was easier to tell the truth here. ‘It might be the easiest way out.’

‘Do you want a way out?’

‘I don’t think I’m going to be a very good laird.’

‘Bollocks.’

‘Everyone’s expecting something and it’s all on me.’

‘Doesn’t sound like it is. Sounds like this Bella is already pitching in.’

That was true.

‘And it would break my grandmother’s heart.’

Ravi paused again. ‘You don’t only have responsibilities there though mate.’

Adam’s chest tightened. Ravi was right. He was needed here as well.

‘Like I’m not saying you have to rush back.’ Ravi stared at his pint. ‘I know it’s hard, and you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do, but I do sort of need to know what you are going to do.’

‘I’m sorry.’

Ravi hadn’t finished. ‘We need you. The business needs you, which means my mortgage needs you.’

‘I know.’

‘Sorry. I don’t want to stress you out. Ila and Asha miss their Uncle Adam too.’

Adam smiled, even though he knew that wasn’t what Ravi was really worried about at all. He was worried about the business, and about the fact that his income was reliant on Adam, which meant that Ila and Asha and Sam were reliant on Adam too. But so was Lowbridge, and that was the rub. Adam had responsibilities everywhere.

Ravi downed his drink, and stood to go for another round. ‘Shame you can’t be in two places at once.’