Chapter 44
44
Boathouse Cottage, St Aidan
Rocks and rolling pins
Saturday
‘D id you know they were going to stay this late?’
When I finally get a moment to look at my phone, hours into tidying after the last of the guests have left, I can’t believe the festivities went on so long.
Miles has an armful of bottles and is heading for his umpteenth trip to the recycling bin. ‘Midnight is the last pick-up time for the over sixties minibus.’ He gives a shamefaced grin. ‘After that they turn into pumpkins. No disrespect to our pony friend outside.’
I’m happy to own up to my mistake. I spent so long talking to Scarlett that the rest of the evening I was running to catch up.
Miles frowns. ‘You do think he counts as my friend now?’
I pull a face. ‘As I got this evening so wrong, and you got it so right, I’m prepared to give you that one.’
Miles didn’t let Zofia do any more for me than my rolling, so I was busy cutting strips and scattering chocolate chips and missed a lot of the socialising. Zofia and Aleksy had offered to help, but from where I was standing spreading apricot jam at the island, it mostly looked like everyone helped themselves. Also Miles had the idea of making the most of the calm dry evening by having the cooling trays outside and boxing up from there, I missed that part too.
All I can say is that last Saturday must have been beginner’s luck, because this time around my sixteen buns took me an age. I can only assume the crowd around the table didn’t give a damn due to the amount of alcohol they’d drunk before they’d even sat down, and had rushed the pastry part so they could move on to the dancing and drinking and visiting Pumpkin and lying in the field looking up at the stars and more dancing– all of which they threw themselves into with the kind of energy levels I last had when I was twelve and running on Fanta.
Fast forward to the end of the evening, and the only finished buns I’ve inspected are mine, which I’d rate a four out of ten, and Angela’s, which came out so badly that she didn’t want to take them home.
Miles comes back in while I’m putting the last of the plates into the dishwasher.
He looks at me. ‘What bit of tonight do you feel didn’t work?’
I nod at the tray, which I’ve left as an admission of my defeat. ‘Angela’s snake pit?’
He laughs. ‘Angela prides herself on not having visited their kitchen since she married Barry thirty-five years ago. Considering she won’t even stab and zap, that was a good first effort.’
I look around. ‘If you want more reasons, they drank the entire contents of the mudroom, three people passed out, and it took Zofia an hour to vacuum after they left.’ Being Zofia, she said there was no point me doing it, because she’d only have to do it again.
Miles laughs. ‘We must never have another party where everyone eats pastries and walks round grinding the flakes into the floor.’
We must never have another party, full stop. Just saying. I understand why he’s smiling and I’m happy to concede defeat. ‘Well done, Milo, you proved my idea was rubbish. We’re back to zero in our search for bakers.’
He frowns. ‘Excuse me?’
I pull a face. ‘Other than me learning the true meaning of “Party like it’s 1999” and finally seeing there was a use for Scarlett’s bank of four ovens, it was a complete wipe out.’
His eyes narrow. ‘I don’t know how you missed it, but if you’d come outside you’d have seen. They don’t even need training, we had eight sets of perfect buns. Once their hangovers clear, we have our baking team.’
‘We do?’ I’m staring at him in disbelief.
‘Now that’s sorted we can put all our energy into getting the new shops ready.’ His eyes are shining, then his face relaxes. ‘That’s why I didn’t mind when they went over the top with the dancing. Yet again, you were right. Your instincts are spot on. I like having you on my team.’
As he tilts his head, I’m close enough to count every eyelash again, and when I see the hollows in his cheeks etched in shadow and watch his lips slide into an even wider smile, that familiar eruption of bird wings flapping in my stomach tells me I have to save myself.
Two leaps puts the island unit between us. ‘With so much extra work coming our way, we need to get some sleep.’ Another three jumps and I’m well on my way out of the kitchen. ‘I’ll take first turn in the bathroom, if that’s okay with you?’
I don’t wait around for his answer. I just hope he isn’t anywhere around when I come out.
As for three new shops, I’m too terrified to even go there. For now, all I can think is that anything that keeps him far away from where I am has to be a good thing– because the more time I spend near him, the harder I’m finding it to keep my distance and my resolutions.