Chapter 18 #2
‘I can’t eat that. You have it,’ said his mum.
She’d finished one half of the sandwich and pushed the other half towards him.
He accepted begrudgingly, but at least she’d eaten something .
‘I know he needs help,’ she continued. ‘But you know how it’s been, Lucas.
We didn’t realise there was a serious problem for a long time, until it was debilitating, and now we keep hitting up against obstacles every time we try to sort things out. ’
‘He needs a specialist.’
‘And he’s on a waiting list. Who knows when it’ll be?’ She sighed, draining her coffee mug. ‘Until then, we’re stuck.’
Lucas leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.
That prize money could change everything: allow him to get together a deposit, get his dad a private appointment so he didn’t have to wait for an aeon for the specialist help he needed.
Lucas had to get serious and stop messing around.
He’d been taking this too lightly, as if it were a simple village bake-off, when it was much more.
He realised as he studied the older couple eating the cake that he liked Clem.
Liked her a lot. The kiss kept floating across his mind like summer clouds, bright and glaring.
But it was a gut-punch, because liking her had made him foolish, illogical.
Liking her would be his downfall.
*
Clem was still at the cat café. To try to distract herself from her worry about Lucas and his family, she’d got on with the baking.
But her head wasn’t truly in it. She’d formed the dough balls and shaped everything until they had cute little ears and paws, and she’d followed the other steps – utilising Lucas’s advice – and waited until her miniature dough-cats had doubled in size.
She brushed them with some beaten egg and baked them, but because she was so worried, she overdid them, and some of them came out burnt at the edges.
She’d forgotten to cover them with foil so they didn’t brown too much.
What’s more, they were extremely dense and chewy, not as airy as they needed to be.
Milk bread was meant to be like eating a cloud, not .
. . whatever this mess was. Why weren’t they coming out right?
His tips . . . had they been genuine? No, that thought process was stupid. Why would he lie?
Unless he wanted to sabotage her. Her thoughts flitted to Genie, the big sign reading CONSERVATION CAREERS , and her stomach bottomed out. Would Lucas do that? Offer to help to make sure she didn’t get through in the contest? To ensure he would win?
Surely not. And especially not with his dad being in hospital. She was just being silly because she’d been hurt once before by someone she cared about.
She couldn’t think about this right now. Thinking she could at least practise the decorating, she attempted to paint faces on the kitten buns, but she messed them up, and some of them ended up looking as worried as she felt. One of them looked borderline hysterical.
In the end, she brought the kitten buns that were relatively okay into the Cat Lounge in a dish.
The wood burner in the grey-brick fireplace was empty – in spring and summer they had no need for it, but in winter it could be incredibly cosy in here, with logs burning and a fire crackling and the cats spread out across the room, drawn to the warmth.
Only a few of the cats were in here – Binx was coiled atop one of the cat towers, green eyes briefly assessing her before he tucked his face into his grey fur and went back to sleep.
Kitty was curled on the rug with her paws tucked in, her beautiful Bengal colouring vibrant in the sun spilling in through the windows, eyes opening and closing lazily.
Jess was in one of her favourite positions on the back of the sofa, snoozing with her black tail coiled around her.
Clem leaned into the leather – making Jess chirp in greeting. She stroked the cat’s head and checked her phone. Lucas hadn’t replied. She’d texted him earlier asking if everything was okay and she thought he would have answered by now. She felt a horrible lurch – was something seriously wrong?
Now her phone was in her hand, it was too easy to compulsively check on what was happening with Whisked Away .
She couldn’t bring herself to watch the video of the round of the competition – she had no desire to see herself bumble through things again – but judging by the comments, the show was spinning a particular angle.
This is way better than the last contest!! Ronan is a pure genius to have dog vs cat.
I don’t care about the other contestants at this point. Want to see if it’ll be enemies to lovers.
They’ll never get together. They seem too mismatched anyway? Like he’s clearly more confident than she is.
Every comment was like knives poking at her skin, and Clem still couldn’t stop looking, doom-scrolling into oblivion.
Eventually, she deleted her social apps entirely and chucked her phone across the room onto the opposite armchair in frustration.
Jess hopped down from the sofa in surprise and Kitty opened her eyes wide, ears angled.
Even Binx stirred, head raising, a grumpy expression on his face.
‘Sorry, kitties,’ Clem mumbled.
She snatched up a kitten bun and bit into it. This was one of the ones that miraculously hadn’t burned, and although it tasted fine, the texture was too claggy, not soft and fluffy enough. Clem sighed.
A few minutes later, Emmie appeared in the doorway of the Cat Lounge. She was wearing a pair of high-waisted jeans and a white top, with an extremely baggy hoodie that looked at least five sizes too big for her.
‘Hey, Clem,’ Emmie said, smiling warmly. She must have noticed Clem assessing the hoodie, because she looked down and tugged at it. ‘It was raining earlier so Jared lent me his hoodie to come home in.’
‘Ah, that’s nice of him,’ said Clem, distracted.
‘Oooh, have you been experimenting?’ said Emmie. She placed her backpack down next to the sofa, gave Jess’s ears a scratch, and sat down beside Clem, leaning over to look at the bread.
‘Practising for the next round of the contest,’ Clem explained.
‘Lucas was helping but . . .’ She trailed off, realising what she’d said.
Maybe she shouldn’t have let that slip since they’d agreed to keep it a secret, but she’d still not heard anything from him and she couldn’t seem to keep her thoughts in order.
‘Lucas? The guy from the dog-friendly place? Muddy Paws?’
‘Please don’t tell anyone,’ Clem urged her, swivelling on the sofa to face her. ‘We had this agreement to help each other with our weak spots. But now I don’t think it was such a good idea, and I don’t know if he was being genuine. What people are saying . . .’
‘I’ve seen some of it,’ said Emmie gently. ‘It might be best not to look, until the contest’s over. It won’t do you any good to read the comments.’
Clem knew this was true. But sometimes she felt like an asteroid orbiting the sun – the sun being her phone.
She was so drawn to the thing, she sometimes thought the only way to be rid of that feeling would be to get an old-fashioned brick phone with no apps and no internet. Or to throw the phone into the sea.
‘I know it’s hard,’ Emmie continued. ‘I sometimes fixate on my art accounts, especially since they’ve grown. And with twenty positive comments, the ones that stick out are always the negative ones. Can I try one of the buns?’
Clem nodded. ‘I threw away the ones that were too burnt to eat. Help yourself. They’re too dense though.’
Emmie tore a roll from the cluster and took a bite. Clem couldn’t read her expression.
‘Not bad,’ she said. ‘They taste good. I see what you mean about them being dense. Hey, don’t look so glum. I’m sure you’ll sail through with flying colours once you nail it down.’
‘Lucas’s dad is in hospital,’ Clem told her. It felt good to unburden herself, and Emmie had always been nice to her, so she knew she could trust her.
‘What? Is it serious?’
‘I don’t know . . . He was here earlier helping me, and then he rushed off. I messaged to ask how things were and he hasn’t replied.’
‘He might be dealing with things. I’m sure he’ll answer when he can.’
‘He was giving me tips, but . . .’
Emmie continued to eat the rest of her bun. Kitty had moved from her spot on the rug to sit at Emmie’s ankles. Her irises were ringed in black as if she were wearing eyeliner.
‘You can’t have bread, Kitty!’ said Emmie, making a shooing motion with her hands. Kitty didn’t move. ‘It’s not for you.’
‘We kissed,’ Clem blurted. ‘Me and Lucas.’
It was too much to keep to herself. She’d wanted to address it with Lucas but he’d rushed off to hospital, understandably.
Emmie almost dropped the last small piece of bread she was holding and Kitty raised her front paws expectantly, like a meerkat.
When it was clear Emmie wasn’t going to give her anything, she set them down again.
‘When?’ said Emmie, eating the last of her bread.
Clem briefly explained what had happened. ‘I know it’s not important right now, with his dad being unwell, but . . .’
‘Go on?’ Emmie encouraged her.
‘With all these comments, and this dog-and-cat rivalry angle the contest is spinning . . . I feel like I got carried away. Like it wasn’t a good idea to kiss him.
And then this person I know turned up at the contest and it’s complicated .
. .’ She explained about Genie and the video.
It was trying, to repeat the same story she’d already told Lucas.
But Emmie would see the video if she hadn’t already.
‘I don’t know if Lucas was helping me for the right reasons,’ she added.
‘And I feel bad even saying it right now . . .’
By the time she’d done, Emmie was frowning, a little crease over the bridge of her nose. ‘Do you think Genie shared that video around?’
Clem shrugged. ‘She took it, so who else could it be? It did get around back then, so other people could have downloaded it too, but she turned up at the contest. It can’t be a coincidence.’
‘You could talk to her and find out? Maybe she wanted to see you and make amends?’
‘I don’t know . . .’
‘It’s your decision. I don’t blame you if you don’t want to. She betrayed your trust. As for Lucas . . .’ Emmie paused, considering, and dusting off her hands. ‘Did he say how he felt about things?’
‘We didn’t really have chance to talk about it properly. Earlier, he . . . he kind of implied I’m beautiful, and he mentioned the kiss, but he had to rush off . . .’
Emmie beamed at her. ‘Sounds like he likes you! So why do you think he isn’t being genuine?’
‘Well, he’s the competition, isn’t he? And he really wants to win.
He has solid enough reasons for wanting the prize money.
Which I completely understand.’ Clem took a breath, and let the words out in a rush: ‘How am I supposed to trust him when he wants me to lose, though? I haven’t known him for long . . .’
‘Long enough to kiss him,’ Emmie said slyly, nudging Clem with her shoulder.
‘Ugh.’ Clem covered her face with her hands – her cheeks were burning.
Emmie laughed. ‘It’s good to see you taking some initiative.’
Clem could barely fight the guilt that crept over her skin like ice particles. Lucas wanted to win the contest for the sake of his parents; she hadn’t been able to take the initiative , as Emmie put it, to enter it herself. Sylvie had been the one to push the button in the end.
She shook her head, flopping against the sofa in defeat.
‘I didn’t enter the competition myself.’ She avoided looking at Emmie as she spoke, her chin tucked into her chest. ‘I filled in the form and got scared. Sylvie happened to come across the application and thought I’d forgotten to ask her to fill in her sections.
So she typed them out, and pressed send. ’
Silence fell, and still Clem couldn’t look at Emmie, fearing her judgement. She instead traced a line in the leather sofa with the pad of her finger.
‘Does that matter?’ said Emmie eventually.
‘What?’ Clem jerked her chin up. ‘What do you mean?’
Emmie’s expression was soft. ‘It doesn’t matter if Sylvie sent it off, or you. You’re in the competition now, and you’re doing it regardless of any fears or doubts. You’re doing a brilliant job. Don’t beat yourself up about that.’
‘Th-Thanks,’ Clem spluttered. She wasn’t entirely sure she was doing a brilliant job – but maybe Emmie was right.
She’d done more than she’d given herself credit for.
The problem was, she wasn’t sure how she’d manage if things spiralled.
If she made more mistakes, or if Genie – or Lucas, for that matter – did something to hurt her, would she revert back to the person she was?
Being too afraid to leave the house, to be around people, to do anything?
‘Do you like him? Lucas?’ Emmie asked her.
‘I do,’ said Clem. She knew it was true – being bold enough to kiss him, to go with her instincts in spite of everything, proved it.
But for now, she needed to push her instincts to one side.
She wrung her hands in her lap. ‘It’s just .
. . The speculation, the filming, what people are saying, and now Genie .
. . and Lucas’s dad being in hospital . . . I don’t know . . .’
‘Genie’s in your past,’ Emmie reassured her.
‘Try not to pre-judge people in the present for that, Clem. Maybe you need to get to know Lucas better, and see how the contest unfolds. It’ll probably be easier once the cameras are off you,’ she added, ‘and you don’t have random strangers on the internet to deal with.
That’s probably making you even more sceptical about him. ’
Clem nodded. That was what she’d thought too, and having it confirmed to her made her feel lighter, her chest less tight. ‘Thanks, Emmie.’
‘No problem,’ said Emmie, slapping her hands on her knees as she got to her feet, startling the cats who were dotted around the room. ‘How about an iced coffee?’