Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
The Café on the Coast had been busy all day, the usual stream of tourists and locals keeping Clemmie on her feet from morning until closing.
As soon as the doors had shut, she’d been even busier preparing for tonight.
Oliver’s last night. Their last dinner before he made his way to the airport.
In the last half-hour she had swamped the café with candles and placed a jam jar of wildflowers in the centre of the chosen table.
She heard the bell above the door jingle, and Oliver stepped inside. He held out his arms and immediately they hugged each other tight.
‘You okay?’ he asked.
Clemmie nodded, swallowing a lump, telling herself to enjoy the evening, and that somehow it would all work out.
‘I hope your phone is charged because the only break you’ll have from me is when I’m on that nine-hour flight. I’ll be FaceTiming you from the airport, the bar and just before take-off,’ he said, lightening the mood.
‘Fully charged,’ she replied, pulling away slowly.
‘What is that I can smell? What are we eating?’
‘Shepherd’s pie – and for dessert it had to be clementine torte. Are you having one glass of wine?’
‘As much as I would love to share a drink with you, I would be tempted to have more and that would mean missing the flight.’
‘I best get you drinking then,’ she teased. ‘There’s water on the table. I won’t be a minute.’
Returning to the kitchen, she watched him through the door, her heart tightening in that awful, bittersweet way she’d grown too familiar with.
He was leaving. They’d talked about her visiting, of course.
But life had a way of filling up faster than you realised.
The Café on the Coast had become the new must-visit spot, her days swallowed by tourists, orders and the endless demand for her clementine torte.
The cookbook was coming out at the end of the month, an actual book with her name on it.
She was thrilled – of course she was – but as she looked at Oliver sitting at the table in her candlelit café, she wondered if success always came with a price.
‘This looks and smells amazing, Clemmie,’ he said softly as she placed the food on the table. ‘Is this going to be in the cookbook?’
She smiled. ‘I wanted our last night to be special and yes, it is.’
‘I promise there will be others.’ He reached across the table and held her hand. Neither of them wanted to let go. ‘I want to make it work.’
‘I do, too, but I can still be sad you’re going.’
‘I know, I feel the same.’
‘Let’s eat,’ she said, pulling her hand away.
They ate slowly, lingering over every bite. The conversation ebbed and flowed, light and teasing one moment, quiet and deep the next. But despite the chemistry between them, there was an underlying sadness neither of them could dispel.
‘You must be exhausted,’ Oliver said, taking a sip of water. ‘The café has been non-stop since the competition. I barely got through the door when I popped in earlier. I swear, I saw people queuing outside before you even opened.’
Clemmie laughed. ‘It’s been madness, but the best kind. And it’s only going to get busier. The recipes have been sent to the publisher. It’s officially happening. The book will be out in no time.’
Oliver grinned. ‘I saw the announcement on social media.’
‘Pre-orders are already in the thousands. It’s surreal. And we’ve set up a launch night at the café on publication day. I’ll be signing books, and everyone gets a free slice of torte.’
‘Free cake? That’ll cause a stampede,’ Oliver teased.
Clemmie laughed. ‘Probably. But it felt like the right way to celebrate.’
‘It’s perfect. Just like you handled everything after the competition. You were incredible, Clemmie.’ His expression softened. ‘I’m really proud of you.’
She reached for his hand across the table. ‘I couldn’t have done it without you.’
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Oliver said, ‘I’m glad we told Lady Rosalind some of the truth about Henry Aberford.’
‘Me too, and I’m grateful that the allegation of cheating was quickly dropped and my name cleared,’ Clemmie said. ‘No doubt Lady Rosalind and Bunny had something to do with that.’
‘Without a doubt,’ Oliver agreed. ‘I told you Lady Rosalind was a fair person.’
‘Dare I ask how it’s going with Fiona?’
‘It’s in the solicitor’s hands so hopefully it will all be done and dusted soon. But let’s not spoil this night talking about her.’
‘Agreed. I’m just glad it’s all over and things worked out. I can finally breathe again.’
Oliver lifted his glass. ‘To new beginnings.’
She clinked hers against his. ‘And to this moment. No matter what happens next.’
They drank, letting the warmth of the evening wrap around them, holding on to every second as if time itself might pause if they wished hard enough.
The last spoonfuls of clementine torte were eaten. Oliver looked at his watch. It was time to leave and Clemmie knew it.
Bracing herself, she briefly closed her eyes. ‘Go on. I know you have to go.’
Oliver exhaled. ‘I truly get why you could never leave this place, why you love it here. These people, the way they keep each other’s secrets and protect the island’s own. It’s remarkable.’
Her throat tightened. ‘Oliver…’
Neither of them wanted that conversation. It was too difficult.
‘Damn the timing,’ she replied, trying to lighten the mood.
‘It’s been a hell of a couple of weeks, Clemmie Rose,’ he murmured, standing and pulling her into his arms.
The dam broke, and the tears came fast and hot as she clung to him. ‘A year is a long time, Oliver.’
‘It’ll go fast,’ he promised. ‘This isn’t the end.’
He kissed her deeply and she kissed him back just as fiercely, unwilling to let go.
Finally he pulled away, breathing hard, and cupped her face. ‘I have one more secret to tell you before I leave.’
She looked up at him. ‘What is it?’
‘Just in case you still wonder, it was me who nominated you for The Royal Baking Competition. I didn’t nominate Fiona, she just assumed I did, and I never put her straight. As they say, “You have to pick your battles.” My guess is that Lady Rosalind nominated her.’
She froze. ‘What? You nominated me?’
He gave her a lopsided grin. ‘I knew you would smash it, though I wasn’t aware we’d open a box of secrets! But I’m grateful for this whole experience. It brought us back together.’ He pressed his forehead to hers.
She let out a watery laugh. ‘You absolute menace!’
He grinned. ‘I know.’
Then, after one last lingering kiss, he walked out the door.
She stood in the doorway and watched him climb into the driver’s seat.
Her heart felt like it was being wrenched from her chest as he gave one last wave and the car began to roll down the lane, its red taillights disappearing into the night.
She wiped her cheeks, whispering to herself, ‘This isn’t the end. He’ll be back soon.’