Chapter 17
17
The Hideaway, St Aidan
A spoonful of sugar
Monday
S ophie might still be in a razz about the hair dye, but that girl has more candles than Jo Malone, and once Nell spread the word about tonight, she didn’t hold back on lending me lanterns. When Plum arrived mid-afternoon it took us four trips to bring them all from the parking area. We put the big ones on the steps and around the side of the deck, and the smaller ones went on the side tables with some for the main table, which we put in the centre of the veranda.
Once Bianca and Salvador started poring over ring designs with Kit, I spent the rest of the morning back home making favourites from my old repertoire to cut up and use in the sweets. My mum heard too and dropped by with a posy of flowers for the table, then she rushed off again with a random promise to come back and paint my wall blue tomorrow. Nell, Clemmie, Bud and Arnie arrived soon after Plum, and while Plum strung lights around the deck Clemmie and Nell helped by tasting my sample concoctions and tweaking the mixes.
While the others go home for tea, Plum stays long enough to help light the lanterns and see the full impact of the fairylight strands swaying in the wind as the day fades to dusk. Inside I’ve opted for my relaxed playlist, and I’m swaying along to Roxy Music’s ‘Dance Away’ as I wait for Bianca and Salvador to work their way through their High Tides meal.
Kit is bringing them over afterwards, and my phone pings repeatedly as he messages with news of their progress. As the Pet Shop Boys ease into ‘Always on My Mind’, there’s yet another ding.
And we have lift off, Floss. Be with you in five.
And this is it. As I step outside, the distant rush of the tide and the gentle flap of the white linen tablecloth feel like the perfect backdrop for lovers coming to the end of a romantic day by the beach. I hear their voices in the distance along the dunes before I see them, and then a torch flashes and their figures appear out of the shadows.
As they clamber up onto the deck calling their hellos, Bianca is already clapping her hands.
‘It’s amazing, Florence! The veranda is even more beautiful than it looked on Insta!’
Kit squeezes my elbow, drops an ice bucket with a bottle on the table, then puts his camera bag on the floor. ‘Okay kids, let’s take a few more for the album before you settle in.’
I give the rugs on the director’s chairs a last pat, and step back towards the door. ‘And while you do that, I’ll prepare the goodies.’
It couldn’t be a better night. As I carry out the tray later the velvet blue sky is studded with diamond pricks of stars, the warm breeze along the dunes is ruffling the sand as it passes, and the sea is dimpled with the shimmer of moonlight.
I arrange the full cups on the table, Kit takes yet more pictures, he pops the champagne cork, tops up the flutes, we both chorus ‘Enjoy!’, then we slip inside and I point Kit towards the sofa.
‘So what are you treating them to?’ Even after a full day with clients, as he sits down the only sign that he’s kicking back is his shirt cuffs pushed up his forearms.
‘I’ve done a selection…’ That’s as far as I get before I breathe in that familiar scent of his and lose my thread. I wasn’t ready for his presence in my living room to be this unbalancing.
‘Keep going.’
I make myself concentrate. ‘Sticky toffee pudding with ginger ice cream, lemon cheesecake with sorbet and popping candy, chocolate fudge cake with double chocolate chip ice cream, Coco Pops, and dark chocolate sauce, and Victoria sandwich with jam, fresh raspberries and vanilla ice cream. All with my usual additions and embellishments.’ Custard, cereal sprinkles and flamingos, in other words.
He’s leaning forward so eagerly I take pity on him. ‘You aren’t hungry?’
His face splits into a grin. ‘I could eat a horse.’
I bite back my smile. ‘A cupful of ice cream won’t do the job then.’ I watch his face fall, and then I relent. ‘Don’t worry, there’s an extra-large serving waiting for you in the fridge and one for me too. I made a guess at your favourite flavour.’
Two moments later, as I hand him the cup piled high with chunks of brownie cake and scoops of dark chocolate ice cream, he murmurs, ‘You know me so well.’ Then he takes the spoon and instead of digging into the cake pile he points it straight at me. ‘You do know you’re extraordinarily good at all this, Floss?’
I pop a piece of jam and sponge into my mouth and laugh. ‘What? Putting people at their ease then watching them eat their body weight in ice cream?’
He shakes his head at me, then he nods towards the deck. ‘Those two were ready to walk this morning – it’s entirely down to you that they stayed.’ He pauses to let a spoonful of double chocolate chip H?agen-Dazs melt on his tongue. ‘And whatever unique and memorable processes they did earlier with their rings, I know this will be the highlight of their day.’
I shrug and get ready for an admission. ‘Making people relax and have the best time is one thing I can do.’ It’s what I lived night after night at The Circus. ‘Hospitality used to be my thing – a few years ago.’
He frowns. ‘I only realised today what a difference it makes having a woman in the studio with me.’
I nod as I remember. ‘When Dillon and I came in as an engaged couple it felt super-romantic that you were working with your fiancée.’ It feels like he’s left this wide open for me to ask what I’ve been aching to know. ‘So is your “real” partner looking after the London end?’
He blows out his cheeks. ‘I’m afraid there isn’t a London end to the business anymore. After Vee and I went our separate ways, I handed the studio on to a friend and moved everything down here to Cornwall.’
Somehow saying I’m sorry sounds too negative. ‘A perfect place for a new start.’
And I’m not sure why my heart feels like it’s left my body and started to orbit the earth either. Knowing he and Vee are no longer an item has absolutely no bearing on anything to do with me.
He lets out a sigh. ‘Vee wasn’t ever my fiancée. We were together , but she pretended the rest for the sake of the client experience.’ He pulls a face. ‘She insisted that so long as she wore a big enough diamond no one would be any the wiser or any worse off.’
Now it’s confirmed, I can’t ever imagine Vee kicking back in St Aidan. But at the same time, thinking he was fully committed was useful because it’s much easier being around someone hot when they’re spoken for. This way means I’ll need to put a lot more effort into keeping any unconscious – inappropriate – thoughts under control.
This throws up a lot more hypothetical stuff too. It would be bad enough for me trying to date someone ordinary. Imagine if it were someone I really liked. How much worse it would be if they knocked me back. This is why I’m right. Why I can never go there.
I need to smooth over about making our rings. ‘Vee gave us a great day at the time. You both did. I mean, us never using the rings had nothing to do with her faking it.’
He laughs. ‘That’s good to know.’
I hesitate for a second knowing he’s not going to push. But having got myself in this deep I might as well explain. And this is the plus side; if I’m fully decided that I’m not going to put myself through the dating, I don’t have to think of drip feeding the information. I can just be honest, put it out there, and move on. ‘I was ill for a while, and by the time I was over my cancer we wanted different things.’
He nods. ‘I’m sorry. Illness can change everything, but it’s good you’re better.’
I’m grateful he hasn’t asked more. But I do feel better that he knows. Even as a friend slash colleague, it’s a relief he hasn’t gone all weird about it, because a lot of people do. I give a rueful smile. ‘Running west to St Aidan wasn’t anywhere in my original life plan, but here I am.’ I pull a face. ‘Believe it or not, I came here hoping for solitude.’ It feels strange now to think how certain I was that I wanted to be left alone and do nothing.
‘I can see that’s working out for you . ’ He laughs and looks at the ceiling. ‘I’m having a similar level of success. I assumed relocating the business to the beach huts would be easy, but with two couples close to abandoning in as many weeks, I may need a rethink.’ He frowns into his cup, then he looks up hopefully. ‘Do you have any ideas?’
I have approximately a million, but I stick to the basics. ‘It could be about client expectation?’ We were all over this in the cocktail job. ‘Your buzzy urban cool might not work in this location. When people travel to a sleepy seaside village, they’re buying into something more relaxed and laid back.’
‘Okay.’ He’s nodding. ‘So what do you suggest?’
I swallow. ‘If you tried dressing for the beach not the city, that would be a start?’
He gives me a sideways glance. ‘I’m not wearing my wet suit.’
‘ Obviously not.’ I take time for an eye-roll. ‘Shorts or surf pants might put people more at ease.’ I see his doubtful look and try again. ‘Jeans and a T-shirt then? A linen jacket instead of a suit one?’
‘Jeans?’
‘You do have some?’
‘Of course.’ He pulls a face. ‘At least one pair.’
I exchange glances with Shadow.
Kit lets out a long breath. ‘I’ll have to give this some thought.’ He runs his finger along the crease in his chinos. ‘Like what the hell would I do with two hundred redundant white shirts?’
And he’s definitely got me there.
I take a spoonful of cake and ice cream, close my eyes and let the sweet tang of the jam melt onto my tongue. When I open my eyes again a long time later his gaze is locked on my face.
My stomach turns three somersaults before I manage to speak. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Not at all.’ He shakes his head and drops his eyes.
I follow his sightline. ‘You’re looking at my cup.’ It takes a moment to figure out what he’s thinking. No need for the cartwheels after all then. ‘You’d like to try the Victoria sandwich?’
He holds out his own cup. ‘You can have some of mine in return?’
As I look across at him I can see the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiles and I’m trying not to think about Milla’s Grazia articles. If his eyes are blurred and slightly out of focus, it’s only because he’s enjoying his pudding, or he’s totally knackered after a really long day.
‘You’ve got more than me. If we split fifty-fifty, I get the better deal.’ I’m trying not to enjoy this. Then my practical mind catches up. ‘Shall I go and get more spoons?’
He frowns. ‘Why?’
It spills out before I can stop it. ‘Anyone with more shirts than minutes in the day is likely to be germ obsessed too.’
His low laugh resounds through my chest. ‘I don’t give a damn about contamination. The numbers are outrageous because I’m naturally messy and prone to spills.’ He laughs again. ‘If we talk about it much longer the ice cream will have melted.’
‘So you’re good to share?’
‘Absolutely. I am.’ He pushes his chocolate pile towards me, I hitch my stool closer, and a second later we’re dipping into each other’s sweets.
As I watch him scoop one of my raspberries and shiver as it slips between his teeth, I wonder what Grazia ’s take on this would be. So long as we aren’t feeding each other, I reckon we’re okay. But this close up his scent is overlaid with entirely different notes and as we work our way down our portions, I can see the pores on his skin where the stubble grows. And each individual dark eyelash.
As expected, mine runs out first, then a few moments later he’s scraping up the remnants of his.
I shake my head and let out a sigh of relief that it’s over. Then instantly regret that too. ‘Leave the glaze on the china, Kit.’
When he finally raises his spoon from the cup it’s loaded to the max. Then he pushes it towards me . ‘This last one is yours.’
My tummy drops. ‘You have it.’ Any excuse not to cross that line of him putting food into my mouth. I try again. ‘You’re missing that my kitchen is bursting with chocolate fudge cake.’ And I’m missing that he might have saved my house from burning, but he’s technically still on the enemy side. This is so much closer than the distance I intended to keep.
‘No really – you made it, it has to be for you…’
Oh my. I pull back, then decide it’s quicker to get this over than protest and go forward, parting my lips. An inch before I reach the target, I totally lose my nerve and veer off. As my cheek collides with his wrist it jogs the spoon and sends the large dollop of melting chocolate ice cream sliding straight down his shirt front.
‘Shit, I’m so sorry!’ How can so little ice cream go so far? ‘You look like you’ve been mud wrestling! I’ll get the kitchen roll.’
He’s on his feet. ‘No worries, it’s fine.’
A nanosecond later Kit pulls the shirt over his head and as he scrunches it up, I’m left gaping at a tanned torso that’s nothing like Dillon’s much narrower, gym-hardened version. Not that I’m comparing. These shoulders are large and naturally muscled. Wide and strong enough to throw me over them. Not that I’d let him. Not in a thousand years.
I’m opening and closing my mouth, grasping for words. ‘Can I lend you a T-shirt?’
He unzips his camera bag, and a moment later there’s a flap of white fabric. ‘This is why I always carry spares. Luckily, I have one last clean shirt.’
I let out a sigh because he’s so full-on. ‘And a hundred and ninety-nine in the wash?’
‘Thank you for doing the counting.’ He catches my eye and grins. ‘No need to look that dismayed, Floss. The chocolate missed my trousers so the good news is that they stay on.’
I should be grateful for the small wins. But from where I’m standing, none of this is good.