Chapter 3
3
Tom Jarvis carried the stack of dirty dishes to the sink, amazed at how much mess a nine-year-old could make thanks to a spot of baking. His kitchen looked like a bomb had hit it.
He’d thought that whipping up a batch of fairy cakes would be easy enough. Baking was Evie’s latest obsession, and he was happy to indulge it. He just hadn’t counted on how many bowls and utensils would be used, not only to measure and mix the cake batter but also for the decorative icing.
They’d only just cleared away the first batch of dirty dishes when it was time for the cakes to come out of the oven and Evie had told him they had to prepare three different batches of coloured icing, in pink, yellow, and blue.
Once they’d poured icing onto the cooled fairy cakes—and all over the kitchen table too, as it turned out—Evie had swung into action adding decorative sprinkles in an array of lurid colours. While some of the sprinkles had landed on target on the icing, a vast quantity was also scattered on the table and the floor.
Tom reckoned he’d be hoovering up shards of sparkly sugar shapes for the next month, at least.
“The fairy cakes look amazing!” Evie said, admiring her work while Tom stood at the sink scraping icing sugar off the multiple spoons deployed during the messy process.
Seeing the huge smile on Evie’s face made the piles of washing up worth it.
“You did a great job with your icing work, kiddo,” Tom said.
“Except for all the sprinkles I spilled everywhere,” Evie said, frowning at the mess still waiting to be wiped from the tabletop.
“There’s a knack to it. Keep practising and you’ll figure out the best way to tackle that part of the process.”
Evie gave a solemn nod, then brightened again as she looked back at the array of fairy cakes. “Can I take some home for Mum and Martin?”
“Of course. You don’t think I could eat all these cakes on my own, do you?”
“Maybe. They are very delicious, Tom. I think I’m turning into a great baker, don’t you?”
Tom laughed, amused by Evie’s sweet pride in her work. And why shouldn’t she be proud? The cakes did taste good, and she had an artistic flair for the decorative work, even if some refinement and tightening of technique were required to cut down on the mess.
“You are turning into a great baker, kiddo,” Tom agreed. Drying his hands, he walked to the cupboard and found a plastic storage box. “Use this to take some cakes home for your mum and Martin. Make sure you choose the nicest ones to share with them.”
Evie turned her attention to selecting the best cakes from the cooling rack. “Mum might not want to eat any cakes, though. She says she’s on a diet until the wedding, in case she can’t fit into her wedding dress.”
Tom stifled a laugh. He doubted very much that there was any chance Lucy would fail to fit into her wedding dress, thanks to her willowy frame, but he also knew that the closer it got to the big day, the more nervous the bride-to-be was getting. Whenever he talked to Lucy on the phone to arrange to pick up Evie for her regular visits, she updated him on the wedding arrangements and her mounting nerves about everything.
“I’m sure one tiny fairy cake won’t stop her getting into her wedding dress,” Tom told Evie. “What’s her dress like, anyway?”
A thoughtful look crossed the child’s face. “It’s pretty. Very pretty. But maybe I shouldn’t tell you about the details in case it ruins the big surprise for all the guests.”
“That seems fair.”
“And Grandma said its bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding. So maybe it’s bad luck for the bridesmaid to talk about the dress before the wedding, too.”
Tom took a moment to process this logic. The bizarre twists and turns that occurred inside Evie’s head as she thought about things never failed to amuse him.
“I don’t think it’s bad luck for you to talk about your mother’s wedding dress, kiddo.”
“But maybe it’s bad luck to talk about it with you .”
Tom noticed now the tender look in Evie’s eyes and realised the little girl was trying to spare his feelings. The realisation sent a punch of emotion straight through his heart.
If Evie was his own flesh and blood, he couldn’t love this sweet, smart and wise-beyond-her-years child any more than he already did.
“Why would it be bad luck to talk about your mother’s wedding dress with me?” he asked gently.
Evie gave a soft shrug. “Because you and Mum used to be together. Maybe if I talk about her wedding dress with her ex-boyfriend, it will jinx things with Martin. And I like Martin.”
Tom sat down beside Evie at the kitchen table. “I like him too, kiddo. And nothing you can say would ever jinx things between your Mum and Martin, okay?”
Evie gave another soft shrug and then nodded. “I suppose.” She settled a fairy cake into the plastic box Tom had given her and then looked at him with a troubled expression. “Do you think Mum and Martin will always be together once they get married?”
“I do,” Tom said, truthfully. “They love each other and I know they’re happy together.”
“But you and Mum loved each other too, and you didn’t stay together.”
It stood to reason that with her mother’s wedding so close now, Evie would be thinking of such things and trying to make sense of them. Tom wanted to reassure her, even though they’d had this conversation before.
“Your mum and I did love each other, and we still do,” he said. “But there are all different kinds of love. The way your mum and I loved each other wasn’t enough for a commitment as big as marriage. But what she feels for Martin, and what he feels for her, well, that’s incredibly special, and it’s exactly the right sort of love that two people need in order to get married.”
Evie nodded, her expression lifting. “They’re always kissing and cuddling each other. It’s sort of disgusting.”
Tom laughed and was pleased when Evie joined him.
“Do you think you’ll ever get married, Tom?”
The kid really knew how to land a zinger of a question when she put her mind to it.
“I hope so, one day.”
“Maybe you’ll meet someone at Mum’s wedding?” Evie said, looking hopeful.
“Maybe I will,” he agreed, happy to play along.
He doubted he would meet anyone at Lucy and Martin’s wedding, though. He knew most of the guests Lucy was inviting, and none of the single women amongst them held any attraction for him, not least because it would be downright creepy to start dating a friend of his ex-girlfriend’s.
“I heard Mum and Martin talking last night, and she said her friend from work, Claire, is excited that you’re coming to the wedding by yourself because she likes you and wants Mum to make sure you’re both sitting together at the meal.”
Tom’s head snapped up in alarm at this revelation.
He remembered meeting Lucy’s friend, Claire, on several occasions when they’d still been together. The woman had had more men than he’d had hot dinners, if the lurid stories she’d told him—entirely unprompted—were to be believed. She had also flirted shamelessly with him each time they’d met, despite knowing he was in a relationship with her so-called friend.
Not wanting to cause trouble, Tom hadn’t said anything about it to Lucy, and had instead avoided being in the woman’s presence, which wasn’t hard as she was no more than a long-standing work colleague to Lucy and not someone he would be expected to socialise with.
He hadn’t thought of her at all in the two years that had passed since he and Lucy had separated, but the icy shivers he felt now at the mention of her name made him realise he absolutely did not want to end up sitting next to her at the wedding meal.
Wasn’t there a table set aside for sad single men who’d be happy passing the time together talking about football? Or perhaps a table filled with a couple of elderly aunts and some stray cousins he could keep company?
“Did your mum mention who she’s sat me beside for the wedding meal?” Tom asked, not keen on quizzing Evie like this but driven by necessity to find out.
But Evie only shrugged. “I don’t know.” She gave him a huge smile, and added, “Maybe you could sit next to me, Tom?”
“Kiddo, there’s nothing I’d love more, but you’re a bridesmaid in the wedding party, which means you’ll be at the top table with your mum and Martin and the others.”
“That’s right. I forgot Mum already told me that.” She frowned for a moment before a smile lit up her face. “But we’ll still get to dance together afterwards, won’t we Tom?”
“Absolutely. That will be the best part of the whole day for me.”
This only made Evie smile even wider.
The doorbell rang just then and Evie leapt up from the table. “That’ll be Mum here to pick me up. I can’t wait to show her the fairy cakes we made!”
Evie sprinted through to the front door carrying the plastic box filled with cakes. Tom followed in her wake.
“Mum, look at the cakes I made with Tom!” Evie shouted when Tom opened the door, before thrusting the box of fairy cakes towards her mother.
“Those look terrific, Evie,” Lucy said, admiring the cakes. “I hope you didn’t make too much of a mess in Tom’s kitchen?”
“Only a little bit,” Evie said.
Lucy gave Tom a wry look of understanding. “If the chaos unleashed in our house when she baked last weekend is anything to go by, then all I can say is sorry, Tom.”
“It’s fine,” he said with a grin. “I had nothing else to do tonight anyway, so I reckon I should get it all cleared up by midnight, with a bit of luck.”
Lucy laughed while Evie gave Tom a quick hug goodbye and then ran out to where Martin was parked on Foxglove Street with the engine running. Tom threw the man a wave, which he returned as he got out and helped Evie climb into the back seat without spilling the box of cakes to the ground.
“Not long now until the big day,” Tom said to Lucy. “Just three more weeks. How are you feeling?”
“Like a nervous wreck. There’s so much still to do. I’m beginning to wish we’d just eloped.”
“You deserve a big wedding day with all your friends and family around you. All the organisation and hard work will be worth it, you’ll see.”
“Thanks for looking after Evie this evening while we were over at the hotel sorting out the final arrangements for the meal. She would’ve been bored senseless if she’d come with us.”
“You know I love having her here. Listen, Evie said something about the seating arrangements for the meal. Apparently, she overheard you and Martin talking about that work friend of yours, Claire somebody-or-other, who wants to sit beside me at the dinner?”
Lucy frowned in the direction of the car where Evie sat. “Nothing gets past our Evie. But yes, that’s right, Claire’s quite keen on sitting with you. She’s single, you’re single. It that okay?”
“Er, are there any other spare places for sad singles like me? I’m not that keen on getting paired off with someone, to be honest.”
“Organising the place settings has been a bit of a nightmare, Tom. I don’t really want to have to start moving anyone around at this stage.”
“Hmm.”
Lucy clearly saw his discomfort, because she added, “If you wanted to bring a plus-one, that’s still an option, you know. That way you wouldn’t have to worry about all the single women chasing you down.”
She laughed as she said it, and Tom laughed too. He didn’t mind the company of pleasant single women, far from it, but thoughts of having to spend the entire wedding fending off the dreadful Claire what’s-her-name from Lucy’s work filled him with gloom.
“It might be a bit late to scare up a date at this late notice,” Tom said.
“What about that woman you were seeing for a while? Jade, was that her name? Maybe she’d be happy to be your plus-one.”
Tom shook his head. “She’s with someone else now.”
“Hmm, well Evie mentioned you were on a date last week. Who was it? Why not ask her along?”
He waved a hand. “We didn’t really click. I doubt we’ll get together again.”
“Maybe you’re too picky, Tom.”
“Maybe you’re just a hard act for any woman to follow, Lucy.”
A tender smile lifted her lips. Tom harboured no lingering feelings for Lucy beyond the platonic friendship they now shared and the fond memories of the romantic relationship they’d once had, but there was no denying that since their separation he hadn’t met any other woman who captivated him the way she once had.
“Now you’re being cheesy,” Lucy said, her smile still soft.
“Not cheesy. Just truthful.” Tom returned her smile and nodded towards Martin’s parked car. “You better get going. Evie’s desperate for you to try those fairy cakes she baked.”
Lucy brushed a kiss on his cheek and then turned to leave. “Think about whether you want to bring someone with you to the wedding as your plus-one, after all.”
“Will do.”
“Time’s running out if you want me to squeeze in an extra setting at the table.”
“Understood.”
Once Lucy was inside the car, he waved them off as Martin tooted the horn goodbye and Evie waved madly from the back seat. Returning to the kitchen, he surveyed the mess still waiting to be cleared up following Evie’s baking activities.
As he loaded dirty dishes into the dishwasher and wiped congealing icing sugar from the tabletop, he thought about what Lucy had said.
Maybe he should just find someone to be his plus-one for the wedding. It was the easier option, certainly far easier than finding himself in the clutches of the awful Claire whatever-her-name-was from Lucy’s work. He wasn’t vain enough to believe that every single woman he met was interested in him, but there’d been no mistaking Claire’s intent on the few occasions they’d met.
Tom left behind the clearing up and stepped outside into the back garden for some fresh air. It was a warm summer’s evening on Foxglove Street, the sky dipping to a sweet shade of blue, and he sank into one of the garden chairs on the patio and pulled out his phone.
Scrolling through his contacts and friends on social media, he wondered if he ought to drop any of them a message and ask if they’d be interested in going with him to the wedding. It felt a bit desperate, but then again, after what he’d just heard from Evie and Lucy, he was desperate.
Desperate to avoid being caught up in Claire what’s-her-face’s tractor beam at the wedding reception and subjected to an entire evening of innuendo and false eyelash-batting.
He was still scrolling on his phone when he heard his neighbour’s voice on the other side of the garden fence. Carole was new to the street, having only moved in properly a week or two ago, but Tom had said hello and chatted with her a few times, keen to make her feel welcome.
Although he had no intention of eavesdropping, the quiet evening meant he couldn’t help but pick up on what Carole was saying.
It sounded like she was talking on the phone to someone.
And the conversation she seemed to be having left Tom completely intrigued.