12. Grayson
Ihadn’t liked Gulliver Holland when I first met him. I’d thought he was a pretentious dick who thought he was better than anyone else.
After four months of watching him every time he hovered near Clover, I’d figured that I could stop wanting to forcibly remove him from her air supply.
She might’ve crushed on him, but she didn’t look at him the way she looked at me, and he saw her as a friend – that was obvious now I wasn’t watching through a cloud of green mist.
When Clover reminded me about Italy, I’d found Gully and asked him for the itinerary, checking if it would be okay if Luca and I crashed his tour. He’d been keen for us to join him, keener still for me and Luca to attend the gala with his publisher, and keener for me to tell him exactly what my intentions were with his friend.
I was going to marry her.
Those were my intentions.
She was going to have my name, and if she wanted, my babies.
I kept that last bit to myself.
I knew it was probably too soon to ask her. Too soon to say those three words that I should’ve said before she’d left for Italy. Words I’d wanted to say every time I’d spoken to her while she’d been away.
She’d told Luca she loved us both the night Sherry had left, hopefully for the last time. I’d meant to ask her about what she’d said that day, but I’d been too afraid that she’d have said something cute like of course I love you both, like anyone would in my position and not declare her undying love for me.
I figured I might need to go first with this.
We were in Rome for the gala, the last week spent sightseeing during the day and eating Italian food in the evening. Gully had looked after Luca more than I’d expected and Luca had loved being with an adult other than me, although Clover was obviously his favourite.
I’d booked us a suite at the hotel where the gala was, not letting myself wince at the cost. It was the last night; tomorrow we were flying back to Manchester and then I’d pick the car up and we’d head back to Puffin Bay, which had quickly become home. Currently, I was sitting on the sofa waiting for Clover to come out of our bedroom ready to head downstairs for the start of the event. It was a mixture of publishers and authors, Italians, British and Americans making up the bulk of the people we’d met so far. Gully knew every one, which was no surprise. Clover knew more people than I’d imagined, given she’d mainly worked from home.
The bedroom door opened and a woman I didn’t recognise walked into the sitting area. Her hair had been teased into an updo, and she wore more make-up than I’d seen before, but it looked amazing. What I couldn’t stop staring at though was the dress she was wearing. Cocktail style, it was an emerald green and tightly fitted, giving her a figure I was already wanting to run my hands over.
“You look pretty.” Luca kneeled up high, his little tux already creased. “Daddy, don’t you think she looks pretty?”
“She looks very pretty.” So pretty that if my five-year-old wasn’t here, that dress would be off already and I’d be feasting on Clover instead of canapes.
“You’ll have to help me unzip it later,” she said, twirling around, still barefoot.
“I don’t think I’m going to have an issue with that.” The neckline dipped and something was making her tits look hot as fuck. “You look amazing. Let me take a photo.”
She laughed. “Really?”
“Yes. I can send it to Amelie and Fleur and show them your what’s it called, glo - ”
“Glow-up. I really don’t look like me, do I?” She caught sight of herself in the mirror. “I never dress up like this.”
“Maybe we should go to more places where you can.”
“On the island? I’m not sure if we’d get away with this at the hotel or in Beaumaris castle and this is seriously painful to wear or it will be. I’ll need to get a doggy bag together and I can eat after I’ve taken it off.” She slipped the heels on she’d bought yesterday.
“I’ll be eating after you’ve taken it off too.”
Luckily my son was too engrossed in his handheld computer game to even question why I’d be eating when Clover was out of her dress.
She shook her head at me, but her eyes were shining. “Shall we head downstairs? The sooner I’ve mingled and talked with some very boring people, the sooner we can head up here and you can pull that zipper down.”
“Please don’t say the word zipper again until we’re back and in there.” I nodded towards the bedroom. “Else I’m going to have a very noticeable problem.”
Her smile did not reassure me.
The evening flew by. I ended up speaking to a couple of authors who were writing medical based thrillers so part of it was spent being asked the strangest of ‘what if’ questions. The other part was spent watching Clover.
I was fascinated, because she was no different here than she was at home, blushing when she spoke to the woman who was her favourite author at the moment, and then getting all giddy when she found two people she’d been friends with at her old publishers.
I noticed the eyes of some of the men and some of the women as she moved about the room like she always wore fishtail dresses, but their stares didn’t bother me. In fact, I felt sorry for them because the only person who’d be fucking her tonight and possibly forever if she let me, was me.
Her old boss found her while Clover was with me, asking her outright to take up her old position and offering her a rise which made my forehead crease.
“I’m sorry, but I’m really happy working for myself and freelancing.” She looked around the room which had been dressed for the event, lots of gold and flowers everywhere, which seemed to be the theme. “You can always refer any work that you can’t get through to me and I’d be happy to consider it.” Her smile was a weapon in itself as she listened to the boss’ congratulations that definitely weren’t meant sincerely.
We ate, Luca was entertained by a magician for an hour or so as there were half a dozen kids all at the event, the children of directors and authors who were using the gala as an opportunity for a family holiday, and we watched as the publishers who were behind the gala presented an award to one of their big names who’d just had his fiftieth book go on sale the week before. There was music and some dancing, although not as much as there could’ve been.
“Daddy, I’m really tired.” My son yawned almost swallowing a passing waiter.
I frowned. Luca never said he was tired, but then we didn’t spend whole days walking around Rome and then in a busy gala. I pressed a hand to his forehead just in case and found it cool. “Do you feel okay?”
He nodded. “Just sleepy.”
“I feel sleepy too.” Clover took hold of his hand in hers. “And I think I’ve spent enough time being nice to people. Shall we go back to the room?”
Luca nodded. He did look tired. We had an easy morning tomorrow, nothing planned apart from breakfast and then heading to the airport for a flight just after midday.
“Did you ask the waiter to put some snacks away?” We’d eaten a four course meal about three hours ago, which Clover had barely picked at.
“He’s had it sent to our room. Let me go and say goodnight to Gully and we’ll head up there.”
I watched her head over to Gulliver, my eyes stuck to the zip on the back of her dress, partly obscured by black curls that had escaped from the pins. I was looking forward to taking those out as well.
Ten minutes later and we were in the suite, Luca ready to fall asleep in his tux. I helped him get changed and brush his teeth, briefly introducing a cloth to his face, a ritual we did most nights. His eyes were almost closed by the time he was in his pyjamas and he was out for the count when I stood at the bedroom door, watching him curled up in the big bed, his favourite soft toy stuffed under his arm.
“He really was shattered.” Clover peered from behind me. “But it is ten o’clock. That’s so late for him.”
“Is it late for you?” I spun around, closing the door to Luca’s room. I had a baby monitor set up for my piece of mind, so I didn’t really need to leave it entirely open.
“I think it’s just the right time for me.” She turned around, lifting up her hair. “But I really need you to get the zip down.”
“I need to do something else first.” I wrapped my arms around her from behind, my hands sliding over the smooth material. Pressing kisses to the side of her neck, I explored the dress, touching her curves, remembering how they’d felt this morning, feeling like the king of the world because I was the only person who knew how Clover felt like this.
I pulled her closer to me, knowing she’d be able to feel my erection pressed against her. Then I slid a hand down her dress, careful so that I did no damage. It was a hire, one that was almost magicked to fit her, and it would be collected tomorrow, which was a shame as I wanted to see how it looked on my bedroom floor at home.
She was braless, which I’d figured. I pushed the strap of the dress off her shoulder and exposed her to the room, the mirror in front of us reflecting exactly what I was doing and letting us both see how she looked.
I tweaked her nipple, heard her moan quietly.
“Get yourself in our bedroom and I’ll sort that zip out.” I undid my cuffs, putting the cufflinks on the table next to my wallet, pulling off my tie.
Clover stared at me, her breast still uncovered. “That – you need to do that again when we get home.”
I grinned, as much as I’d never seen her dressed up before, she hadn’t seen me in a tux and it had gone down well.
“Bedroom. Now.”
Her eye blazed and she slowly walked to the door, watching me watching her.
She was standing in front of the mirror in there when I walked through the door a few seconds later. I got the hint – she wanted to watch and I could understand that. Clover didn’t have hang-ups about her body but recently she’d started to enjoy it. I made no secret with her about how much I enjoyed it and I knew that was giving her some confidence.
I slowly tugged down the zip, pushing the other strap off her shoulder, then sliding the dress down off her body.
She stood there naked, no underwear. My cock thickened. My balls tightened.
“You had nothing on underneath?”
She shook her head. “That dress isn’t that forgiving.”
I ran my hand up the inside of her leg, touching her from behind. My middle finger ran over her clit, finding her wet already. I pushed it inside her, adding another, groaning at how tight she was. My other hand cupped her breast, gently rolling her nipple between my finger and thumb. Her tits heaved as her breathing became heavier, one of her arms reaching up and over to touch me.
I fingered her to an orgasm that had her soaking my hand and whimpering, her head tipped back to rest on me, but her eyes watching what my hands were doing in the mirror.
“You know, I could fuck you in front of that mirror, but that’s not what I want tonight.” I turned her round to face me.
“What do you want?” Her eyes were drenched with lust.
“I want you underneath me like the first time.”
She nodded and backed onto the bed, her hand on my arm and pulling me towards her. “Then that’s what you can have.”
I leaned over her, kissing her remaining lipstick off her lips, loosening the pins in her hair and putting them on the bedside cabinet.
I worked my way down her body like I had every night, slowly toying with her tits, playing with her nipples, touching her everywhere but between her legs.
Neither of us lasted long. I slid inside her, drowsy with need and exhausted with want. Her legs and arms wrapped around me, her body allowing me deep inside her. This wasn’t rough or full of finesse, the eroticism of the mirror had gone, and instead this became something that was no longer unusual. At some point and I didn’t know when, it had stopped being all about sex and had morphed into more than I’d ever had before.
Clover’s orgasm triggered mine, mainly because I was at the point of reciting cricket scores in my head to stop me from reaching the finish line before her.
We lay on the bed, a rumpled, sated mess, limbs entwined, her head on my chest, arms not letting go.
“I love you.” I said the words. They fell easily from my lips, even though I knew the rule that your weren’t meant to say them after you’d just had sex.
She turned over and looked up at me, her forearm pressing down on my chest. “I love you as well.”
“It’s a good job then, isn’t it? We feel the same. Would’ve been embarrassing if I’d been waiting weeks to tell you in case you felt differently.” That was one way of putting it.
“Weeks? You’ve known for weeks?” She looked shocked. “I thought maybe you’d realised when you started missing me.”
“I’ve known since Christmas and you and Luca were the only people I wanted with me on Christmas Day.”
Her smile softened. “Good. You did beat me to it. Makes me feel a bit better.” She sat up, giving me a really good view of her tits again.
She caught me looking. “You have no shame.”
“I don’t want any. Where are you going?”
Another smile. I was rich with her smiles today. “I need to wash my face and then you need to find the rest of these pins. Really sexy job.”
I sat up, my arm winding around her, high enough for my fingers to press at the base of her head and bring her closer for a kiss. “I don’t just want the sexy times. I want everything.”
She nodded, her eyes alight with more fire than I’d ever seen. “Then we’re on the same paragraph of the same page. There’s food out there too.”
“Perfect evening then.”
Puffin Bay seemed brighter when we got back. We were now into early April, Easter having been early. The place was littered with daffodils and crocuses, the pots that were dotted around town overspilling with spring flowers. It was different by the water here. Bristol was on the banks of the River Avon so I’d lived most of my life by a body of water, but here by the sea had more of a sense of peace. The ebb and flow of the tide slowed the pace of life, gifting time or so it felt. The wider expanses of water towards Ireland in one direction and the Welsh mainland in the other made here feel like its own little world, just one with a colony of seagulls that would happily steal your last morsel from your mouth.
“Spring’s started.” Clover leaned out of our bedroom window, looking towards the sea. The tributary which ran underneath the garden was pouring at some speed towards the sea. I was told that in summer it would be down to a trickle.
“And you like spring?” I stood behind her, looking out at the view from over her shoulder.
“I like every season here. They’re all my favourite. One year, I announced each season to be my favourite until someone pointed out I said the same thing every three months. I love Christmas because it’s cosy and the fires – I love the fires. I love spring because of the colours and the flowers. Summer is when this place bustles and it’s busy with people having a good time, and I love that – it’s nice to see people enjoying Puffin Bay like I do. And autumn is when it’s wild and the land belongs to itself again. The tourists have gone home and the sea does what it pleases.” She waved at someone crossing over the bridge.
I had no idea if she knew them or not. Knowing Clover, she didn’t but that didn’t matter anyway.
“If you could only have one season, which would it be?” I knew she’d hate this question.
“Autumn. You’re surprised I answered that.” She turned her head and looked at me triumphantly.
“You said you didn’t have a favourite.”
“I don’t. I like them and wouldn’t swap any of them, but autumn’s when there’s the excitement of Christmas and it’s the best time of year to read books. Especially in front of the fire with a spiked hot chocolate or a glass of red wine. I’m just happy that before we get to another autumn, we have spring and summer.” Her arms wrapped around my waist, hands pulling my T-shirt up so she could slide them underneath.
“What does Puffin Bay have to offer in the spring?” I braced myself for the tour guide version.
“A craft fair today, which we’re going to. There’s a cake decorating competition which will be judged – by Amelie, which will be interesting because Ruby and Fleur have entered it and they’ve ended up being far too competitive.”
“How do you know this – you’ve been in Italy for the last week and a half?” I was totally baffled by how one person knew so much about this town – in real time.
“Message groups. Ruby and Fleur aren’t actually speaking at the moment because they both think the other should’ve withdrawn their entry, so this afternoon’s going to be interesting.” Her smile was slightly on the psychopathic side.
“You’re enjoying their war, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely. They’ll be fine because there’s no way either of them are winning.”
“Because Amelie won’t choose either?”
She shook her head, her curls bouncing all over. They were wild at the moment. “No, I think there’s a dark horse that’s entered. We’ll see.”
“You know more, don’t you?”
Another nod. “I think so. But I haven’t heard anything for a while. My prediction is that Ruby and Fleur will be cross with someone else by the end of the day.”
We unpacked our luggage from the trip, Clover having acquired an additional suitcase which was full of books. The house had an attic space that I hadn’t drawn up any plans for when I bought the place, knowing that you grew into a house over time, and I was thinking about having it fitted out as a little library with a desk for her to work in or escape to. But before that, there were more conversations to be had and decisions to be made and I was conscious of rushing things or making her rush things.
Moonshine was pleased to see his favourite person. He spent the morning following Clover round the house and in the garden, never more than a foot away from where she was, either being stroked and fussed by her or miaowing so she stopped what she was doing and stroked and fussed him.
Thane had looked after him while we were away, having something to do with an animal shelter and secretly fond of cats, or maybe not so secretly. Moonshine looked like he’d added a few pounds and had a very shiny coat, so I suspected extra fish had been added to his diet.
He liked me even less, hissing at me and then running closer to Clover. My working theory was that he blamed me for Clover going away and he wouldn’t accept any other explanation.
Luca slept in, exhausted with the gala two nights before and then the journey home, which had been smooth, but we’d gotten in late, meaning he’d had two late bedtimes. He was back at school on Monday, so an afternoon at the craft fair and probably dinner at the Puffin Inn, followed by a day of not much on Sunday would hopefully set him up for a good week. It was his birthday at the end of April which he hadn’t really clicked onto yet, but I needed to start to arrange something for him.
We headed down to the main street of the town and the community centre just after lunch, Moonshine licking his arse and looking offended that we were leaving him again. There was bunting up and the planters of flowers full of colour that I’d noticed as we’d driven back in the dark yesterday.
The weather was calm, cool but sunny. A couple of people were without coats, some brave fucker even just wearing shorts and T-shirt, but I suspected they were already full of beer.
Walking down the high street took four times longer than it should, as everyone stopped to speak to Clover about Italy. Mavis, Dafydd, Romy, Alys – they all wanted to know what she’d seen and how the gala had been. I was patted on the arm by more people than I’d ever been touched by in one day, apart from when I’d last been clubbing about a decade and a half ago.
“How was the gala? Your dress made you look like a film star.” Alys pawed at Clover too.
“It was fun,” Clover pulled Alys into a hug. “So many amazing authors and it was like something out of Hollywood. How’ve things been here?”
Their conversation dropped into Welsh and I was clueless as to whether I was the subject of it or whether international secrets were being shared.
I looked at Luca who was definitely listening in. “Can you understand that?”
He nodded. “They’re talking about cakes and who’ll win. Can I have pancakes?” he pointed over at a stall set up to make crepes. It looked like today would be full of sugar. I could live with that.
“You can. Do you think Clover will want one or shall we get them without her?” I watched Clover spin around. I’d learned a couple of months ago that she could be having one conversation and listen into another one at the same time, without missing any detail from either. The fact that she could do this in two languages was something I couldn’t get my head around though.
“I’ll have pancakes. Chocolate and strawberry.” Then she snapped back to Alys and carried on with whatever debate they were having.
I queued with Luca for the pancakes, fending questions about Italy from Mavis who was wanting additional details about the art we’d seen while we’d been there and if certain appendages were proportionate.
By the time Clover had finished talking to Alys, our pancakes were ready, served up in cardboard trays.
“You’ve got plain lemon and choc chips?” she turned her nose up at mine. “That’s boring.”
“It’s classic.” I shook my head, perfectly happy with my choice.
“What’ve you got, Luca?” She noisied at my son’s. “Banana, Nutella and what’s that?” She stole a piece with her fork. “Caramelised strawberries. They’re weirdly okay.”
“I think diabetes in this area will increase after the weekend.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Even I know that’s not how it works.”
Singing started, the male voice choirs that were based in Puffin Bay. They rehearsed in the Puffin Inn every so often, the first time Luca had heard them he’d been scared then fascinated, not able to take his eyes off them. Sometimes, if a few of the members were in on an evening, an impromptu concert would start.
The three Holland brothers appeared, joining in with the singing which surprised me at the same time as not doing. They weren’t from here, moving here like I had for something new, yet they’d become part of the town.
“This was one of the songs they sung at Ivy’s funeral.” Clover glanced at me. “I hope Gully’s okay.”
“He looks okay.” He did, standing with his brothers, their voices mingling together. “I think he’s doing well.” I knew he was doing well. As wary as I’d been with him because of Clover, he was one of my patients and I’d seen him just before he’d left for Italy. He’d been treated for depression after his friend Ivy had died, but was now on an even keel and had wanted to ease off the medication that’d been prescribed at the time by my predecessor.
The song changed to one in Welsh and I was surprised to hear the three brothers carry on singing. “I didn’t know they knew Welsh.” I was starting to think I needed to take lessons.
“They don’t. But they can sing it. Gully knows a few more words than the other two, but they’re the ones you’d expect – beer, woman, bed.” Her eyes danced. “Crucial ones. For him anyway.”
We carried on listening, Clover disappearing to get us hot drinks and a juice for Luca who’d found a couple of his friends from school. There were a few tourists knocking around and some of the people who lived for part of the year in lodges on holiday parks, but most of the people were local to the island.
The choir finished, although I expected there’d be more performances during the day, especially in the Inn later. We browsed the craft stalls, Clover buying a few bits of pottery, candles and soap made by her friend Freya, and then we came to the community centre.
The bottom floor of the building was mainly taken up with Amelie’s Cakery, a tea shop that specialised in cakes and afternoon teas. It’d built up a strong reputation since it’d opened, now expanding into the evening where the afternoon teas became boozier, groups of women tending to book the place out at weekends. Amelie made a lot of the cakes, but she also outsourced them from bakers on the island who wanted to work from their own kitchens and made a point of employing young disabled adults who wanted to work and would best thrive in a supported environment.
Lindy, a young woman with Down’s Syndrome, who was also one of my patients at the surgery met us at the door.
“Doctor Wynne!” She clapped her hands together. “And Luca. And Clover. Are you here to see the cakes?”
I nodded. “We are. This is where the judging’s taking place?”
Lindy nodded. “At three o’clock. But you can see the cakes now. Do you want me to tell you about each one?”
“That’d be helpful. Thank you.”
Lindy beamed, talking us through the cakery to a large marquee outside where the cakes were lined up on trestle tables. The tables were covered in brightly coloured table cloths, the ironed creases on them still visible. Some of the table cloths were from years ago, one a relic from Charles and Diana’s wedding, another a Christmas one that had to be from the seventies. There were twenty entries in total, all of them intended to be showstoppers.
“Is this every year?” I murmured to Clover as we looked at the first three.
“This is the first year of it. Given it’s started World War Three, it might be the last. If Ruby or Fleur win, it’s going to be nuclear.” She shook her head, looking at one of the cakes that was decorated with sugar daffodils.
“I don’t think it will be Ruby or Fleur who win.” Lindy pointed at a cake on the other side of the room. “We don’t know who’s entered that one, but that’s the favourite to win.”
We looked over. It had its own table, the cake wide and uniced at the sides, showing different layers. I was no cake expert; I had never baked one, but I was good at eating them. The layers of sponge looked good, but it was the decoration that was amazing.
“That’s Puffin Bay.” Clover had gone over to it, mingling through the cluster of people that’d come in to have a look. “The cake’s been cut in the shape of the coast.”
“There’s the lighthouse.” Luca pointed at it. “And Thane’s cats.” There were even models of tiny cats near the cottages next to the lighthouse.
“There’s our house and the Puffin Inn.” The cake was an edible three dimensional map of Puffin Bay. “Can you eat them?”
“The houses are made of gingerbread. The lighthouse is a sponge. Whoever made the cake must’ve made their own mould.” Lindy was enjoying having a bigger audience now.
“What do you mean, ‘whoever made the cake’?” Clover asked. “Who did make it?”
Lindy shrugged. “We don’t know. It’s an anonymous entry. There was a note with it that has a clue word on it so the baker can identify themselves if they win. I think it will be the winner.”
She was probably right. The other cakes were all amazing, including a kids category that Luca got a bit obsessed with because he knew a few of the entrants from school, or they were the older sibs of his friends.
“That could be a good outcome,” Clover said as we left the cakery and headed over to the Inn. “Neither Ruby nor Fleur win or place and they start speaking to each other. Amelie wouldn’t have picked either of them anyway.”
“Amelie definitely wouldn’t.” The woman herself appeared next to us. “The sunroom’s reserved for us, by the way. Take a seat in there. Bar tabs are set up.”
“Thank you.” Clover led us through to an area of the pub that’d been closed off since I’d moved there. It was an extension that’d been built the previous year to house more people during the summer. There was a door that led out to the children’s play area, another recent addition that Luca had stood and watched being installed just after Christmas.
Today it was filled with heaters and the bi-folds were locked. Every table had a reserved sign, and most already had people who were becoming my friends seated at them. Ruby and Finn were at one end; Fleur and Thane and their twin girls at the other. Gully, Roe and Freya were in the middle, Romy and Cassian with them, Mia and Heidi sharing a colouring book and a tablet.
“Can I play with them?” Luca pointed at the older girls. It wouldn’t be long before Thane’s twins were in the mix of everything too, hence the playground outside.
“Go ahead. Be nice.”
He headed over there, ending up between the two girls by just giving them a smile, and somehow dictating what they were doing.
Romy gave me a grin and shook her head. “He’s spending too much time with Caleb and Gully – he’s learning their charming ways.”
She wasn’t wrong.
“Yeah, sorry about that. Send him over here if he gets on their nerves.” I sat down with Clover at a table where no one else was. She was obviously trying to stay neutral in the cake wars.
“He won’t. They love him. I need to see all the Italy photos, Clover. We’ll have to have another girls’ night and you can show us. I really want to go to Italy.” She glanced over at Cass.
“I’ve got the hint. You don’t need to hammer it in.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You want a holiday to Italy.”
She nodded, her head leaning on his shoulder. “You’re getting there. Maybe without any children. Just adults.”
“That’s sounding even better.” Cassian pressed a kiss to Romy’s head and I looked away.
Clover hadn’t though. She was watching them with hearts in her own eyes.
“You look like you’re a voyeur having a good perv.” I tucked a curl behind her ear.
She shrugged, completely not bothered with what I’d just called her. “I’m just so pleased for Romy. After everything that happened.”
I frowned. “What am I missing?”
Her eyes widened. “The monument on the coastal path near the lifeboat station – that commemorates Romy’s husband. He lost his life during a lifeboat rescue in a storm when Heidi was a few months old.”
“I didn’t know. I knew Cass was Heidi’s stepdad but I didn’t know the why.” It was something I should’ve known. Maybe I needed to encourage Clover to tell me more gossip about the town. Her expression told me she wouldn’t need to be encouraged.
“I’ll tell you the story when we get home. Drink?”
We had a couple of drinks before word got round that the cake judging was about to begin. Amelie had cleared most of the seating from the cakery so as large a group as possible could gather inside if they couldn’t fit inside the marquee. Someone, probably Roe, had set up a screen and cameras so it could be shown in the cakery too, but we managed to squeeze in, Luca forcing his way through the crowd of people to get to the front. I suspected he was interested in being a taste tester rather than who’d actually won.
The bakers were standing behind their cakes, waiting for feedback and hoping for one of the awards. Ruby, her baby bump small but noticeable now, was at the table next to Fleur, the two of them casting each other shade when they thought they could get away with it.
Their partners and brothers-in-law were at the front of the crowd, looking twitchy.
“Who wins?” I whispered the words in Clover’s ear. “Final guess.”
“The Puffin Bay cake takes the big prize. Mavis wins the tastiest. I think that’s a given. The daffodil cake comes second.”
I nodded, agreeing.
Amelie started her speech, thanking everyone for coming. There had been collections throughout the day for a couple of local charities, the total sum coming in at a decent amount. She mentioned that ten percent of the Puffin Inn and Cakery’s takings for the day would also be going to the two charities, one the local animal rescue and the other a day centre for the elderly who were raising money to buy a new minibus so more people were able to attend.
There was a cheer and Roman shouted out that he’d match whatever amount was raised, which didn’t even get a blink off Amelie.
“And now the event you’ve all been waiting for – the winners of our inaugural showstopper cake competition. We’ve had some amazing entries – thank you to each of our bakers for providing samples so we haven’t had to cut into them, as well as the time, effort and imagination that’s gone into each of these.
“The winner of the Best Taste category goes to Mavis for her clementine and almond cake.” Amelie paused for the round of applause and so Mavis could receive her medal and a bunch of flowers.
The tension in the space was thick and could be cut with a cake knife.
“What if Ruby or Fleur win?” I leaned closer to Clover so she could hear.
“I think that’s why Thane and Finn are at the front. To break up the food fight afterwards.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “Freya said that while we were in Italy, they had a massive row about why Fleur had entered when she knew Ruby wanted to win and something about ideas being stolen.”
“Their cakes are similar.” They’d both done a lemon sponge, which I’d read on the notes next to their entries. Ruby’s cake was decorated like a forest, Fleur’s was a flower garden.
“Please don’t mention that to either of them. In fact, don’t mention anything about cakes at all.” She shook her head at me, looking at Amelie who was about to announce the winners.
“We have a third, second and first prize. Our third prize winner is Georgina and her daughter Cara for their seagulls in paradise cake. The judges really enjoyed the cherry sponge and the strong hints of alcohol.” There was a round of applause while the two women went to collect their prize.
“Daddy, has that cake got chips on it?” Luca was back with us and pointing to the seagulls cake, which did have fish and chips on it, seagulls attacking them.
“I think they’re made from sugar paste or something.” I had no clue really, but they were definitely not chips.
“In second place, we have the Chocolate Castle, which is definitely one of the most decadent things I’ve tasted in years. The rich chocolate ganache went down well with all of our judges and I will need the recipe. Congratulations Alys – I’m now wondering whether I need to redeploy you.”
Alys, Amelie’s bar manager, came up to claim her prize, beaming brightly and happily turning down the job change.
Steam was being emitted from both Fleur and Ruby. Thane and Finn were exchanging quiet words.
“The Puffin Bay cake has got to have won.” There was no way it hadn’t. It was a masterpiece of engineering. I looked at Thane and Finn who were deep in conversation, but both looked twitchy. “Clo, can Thane bake?”
She frowned at me then recognition dawned. “He can. His mum worked in a big bakery and was something to do with the cake department. She made my birthday cakes growing up. You think - ”
“I think we’re about to find out.”
“In first place, with this amazing construction and delicious layers of complimentary sponge, is the Puffin Bay cake.” Amelie paused, looking around the room. “Now, this was a last minute, anonymous entry, with a codeword so the baker could be identified. If you are putting yourself forward as the master baker of this monumentous offering, please step forward now and let me have what you think is the codeword.”
There was silence. No one moved.
Until.
Thane and Finn stepped forwards together, Thane heading to Amelie and whispering something to her.
She took a step back, not even bothering to hide the look of surprise on her face.
“This year’s winner of the showstopper is a duo - Thane and Finn. Congratulations.” She held both of their arms up in the air as if they’d just won a battle rather than about to star in one. “I suggest you give the flowers straight to your partners – do we have an extra bouquet?” She looked over at Aelwyn who owned a florist in Puffin Bay. Another bunch was passed over a few seconds later.
Ruby and Fleur were now standing together, their arms folded, but rather than trying to use looks to kill each other, they were glaring at Finn and Thane.
“This is going to be hilarious.” Gully bounced over to us. “My brother’s never going to get laid again.”
Clover shook her head. “Did you know?”
“No! I had no idea. I knew they’d been working together on something and I thought it was a boat. But we’ve not been around for a couple of weeks so I’ve missed out. This is gold.” He bounced over to Finn, loud congratulations being offered.
“You don’t need to be worried that I’ll ever enter that competition. I won’t be stood up there next year.”
Clover smiled at me, her eyes dancing. “Next year? So you’re thinking we’ll still be an us next year? Interesting.”
I faced her, tipping up her chin to look at me.
“I think we’ll be more than an us.” I met her lips with mine and introduced Puffin Bay to a kiss that definitely had Mavis fanning herself.