CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘She must have overdone the vinegar because that’s all I could taste,’ murmured Jaz, looking almost apologetic as she gave her verdict.
We had headed out into the freezing night, leaving Ellie putting out lights and locking up. Lingering together in the café cark park, we talked in hushed voices.
‘Vinegar is all I can still taste.’ Maddy stuck her tongue out in a ‘blah!’ kind of way. ‘I think my poor tastebuds have gone into shock.’
I chuckled softly. ‘Stop exaggerating. It really wasn’t that bad.’
‘No, of course it wasn’t,’ said Fen. ‘In fact . . . I quite liked it.’
‘No, you didn’t,’ said Maddy matter-of-factly. ‘You’re just trying to be nice.’
‘No, I’m not!’ Fen looked indignant. Then she saw our faces and a reluctant smile broke through. ‘Okay, so it wasn’t the best chutney I’ve ever tasted.’
Maddy snorted. ‘Understatement of the year.’
‘The thing is, though,’ said Kenzie worriedly, ‘what are we going to do about it?’
‘What do you mean?’ Maddy looked puzzled.
I nodded slowly, in tune with Kenzie’s train of thought. ‘If Ellie’s plan is to donate her chutney to the WI sale and sell it at her own Christmas market stall, shouldn’t we have told her it wasn’t up to scratch?’
‘That’s true,’ murmured Jaz. ‘Ellie needs to know. I hate it when I cook something and no one’s very keen on it. But I think I’d hate it even more if they lied to me and said it was great when it wasn’t.’
Kenzie nodded. ‘Exactly. Imagine if the customers were to demand their money back. Ellie would be mortified.’
Fen groaned, looking horrified at the thought of breaking the news to Ellie. ‘But she looked so proud of having made that chutney herself. I’m not sure I want to be the one who bursts her bubble.’
‘Me, neither,’ I admitted. ‘And actually, I don’t think people would return it. They would probably just think it wasn’t to their taste and stick it in a cupboard.’
‘True. It wasn’t inedible.’ Fen shrugged. ‘People who are fond of vinegar might actually like it.’
She looked so earnest, trying to convince herself of this, that she set us all off chuckling again.
I felt a stab of guilt and glanced back at the café. ‘I feel terrible discussing this behind Ellie’s back.’
‘Me, too,’ agreed Fen, and Jaz nodded.
‘So who’s going to tell her the truth?’ asked Kenzie.
There was a tense silence. Then Maddy gave a huge yawn. ‘Sorry, I think I’ve got jet lag. Can we sleep on it? I’m far too tired to think just now.’
‘Jet lag? From a two-hour flight?’ I laughed. ‘I think you have to cross time zones for that to happen.’
Maddy shrugged. ‘Maybe I just want an excuse. So I don’t have to tell Ellie that eating her chutney felt like my tongue had been enrolled in some freaky chemistry experiment without my consent.’
*****
Maddy had arranged to be picked up by her hubby, Jack, from my flat, and Fen decided she needed to visit the village store before heading home, so we all walked across the village green together.
Kenzie was telling us about the special edition crockery she’d been designing for the festive season, and which she’d be selling at the Christmas market. It sounded fabulous and when she suggested we all call in at hers for a preview, we all said yes.
The crockery was indeed gorgeous, and Fen decided on the spot that the cute condiment dishes would be perfect for the cranberry sauce at the Christmas lunch she’d be hosting for the family.
‘Special mates’ rates, of course,’ smiled Kenzie, who was looking flushed with pleasure at the compliments.
Jack wasn’t arriving for a while so we sat in Kenzie’s small but cosy living room, four of us squashed onto her sofa, and we chatted some more about the Christmas market and Maddy brought out a bottle of lemon drizzle gin she’d bought earlier.
‘Don’t you want to save it for nearer Christmas?’ asked Kenzie, getting up to get glasses.
Maddy snorted. ‘As far as I’m concerned it’s as good as Christmas already. And anyway, I never need an excuse to drink gin with my friends. Especially lemon drizzle!’
She followed Kenzie into the kitchen, and next second we heard the sound of a key in the lock and the front door opening.
‘That’s Aidan home,’ said Kenzie, going to meet her boyfriend in the hall. ‘I’ve just realised we’re out of tonic water, Maddy,’ she called back. ‘But there’s lemonade in the fridge.’
‘Hey, everyone.’ Aidan looked surprised to see us all. ‘It looks like I’ve arrived at the perfect time.’ He smiled over at Maddy, who was walking in with a tray of clinking glasses.
‘I poured an extra one for you,’ grinned Maddy. ‘Sorry, Kenzie, I don’t mean to take over here.’
Kenzie laughed. ‘Be my guest. There’s crisps in the cupboard if you’d like to bring them out?’ Smiling, she snuggled up to Aidan briefly and they shared a kiss, their happiness clear for all to see.
I glanced away, a hollow feeling inside.
It was such a cosy scene, everyone drinking a toast to the festive season. All my friends were in love and looking forward to Christmas, and I was so happy for them.
If only my own relationship wasn’t on such shaky ground . . .
*****
Maddy and I were half way back to my flat, walking along the high street, when Jack’s car pulled up beside us. He leaned over and opened the passenger door.
‘Ooh, it’s my lift. See you soon, Katja.’ Maddy slipped into the passenger seat and they kissed briefly.
I waved them off, standing watching until the car disappeared. They’d been through some tough times, Maddy and Jack, but somehow, they’d made it through, and now they seemed stronger than ever.
On impulse, I drew out my phone and called Caleb but it went straight to answerphone. Feeling deflated, I started walking home, turning off the high street into Maldon Avenue, my road.
My flat was in a converted Georgian townhouse towards the far end of the street, and as I walked towards it in the dark, I could hear the hum of an engine.
A black car was parked further along, facing me, and for a brief moment, I hoped it might be Caleb.
But then I saw it had a roof rack, so it definitely wasn’t him.
It seemed to be idling there on a double yellow line.
I was still some distance away, but when the headlights flicked on, they caught me in the glare, dazzling me, although the driver quickly dimmed them.
The roar of an accelerator split the silence and the car was moving out into the road, travelling in my direction. I watched it as it gathered speed quickly, at the same time altering course slightly. The roof rack wasn’t quite straight, I noticed. It almost looked as if it might fall off.
With a shock, I realised the car was heading straight towards me as I walked along the pavement. It was veering too close to the kerb for comfort. Had the driver lost control? Instinctively, I stepped away from the edge of the pavement, squashing myself against the hedge at the side.
But then suddenly, as I froze in the glare of headlights that were now switched to full beam, the car mounted the pavement at speed right in front of me. Its tyres clipped the kerb and bumped over the paving flags with a sickening crunch, heading straight towards me . . .