Chapter 3
IZZI
Izzi set off for the Candy Apple Café straight after breakfast because she was excited and didn’t want to be late.
She’d parked her car at the edge of Cameron’s gravelled driveway and had no plans to take it out again for a while.
When she moved out from her aunt’s place, the cost of finding somewhere to store her possessions had cleared out her savings, so she had to watch her money and walking was free.
But it was a beautiful crisp autumn morning, and the walk would do her good.
It would also give her more of a sense of Honey Haven.
Perhaps she’d even meet a few of the villagers on her way.
If she was going to get to the bottom of the letter she’d found amongst her aunt’s things, she was going to have to talk to as many of the locals as she could. Hopefully, she’d get a lead soon.
She strode with purpose, heading in the direction of the high street, and passed a cluster of golden silver birches, fiery rowan trees and huge oaks with bright red and yellowing leaves.
The glorious colours contrasted with the forest of pine trees she could see in the far distance now the sun was up, which led to snow-covered mountain peaks.
Izzi took in a breath and shut her eyes for a beat, marvelling at how fresh the air smelled compared to London.
Then her mobile began to ring, and she tugged it from her pocket and saw her best friend and former colleague, Lottie Robertson, was calling.
‘Lottie!’ she said as she continued walking, striding past a red phone box, then a cute cottage with three black cats who were staring at her out of a large bay window. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine – the new job is great; everything’s brilliant. You’re going to love the bakery when you join us. Don’t forget the boss wants you to start before Christmas. They keep saying they can’t guarantee the job will still be there if you leave it too late.’
‘I know,’ Izzi said, wincing. She’d told Maud she could stay until Christmas but was hoping Skye might return earlier so Izzi could start the new job.
It all depended on how quickly she tracked down her mystery relative because she didn’t want to leave Honey Haven until she had.
She walked a little further down the high street, passing a building constructed from warm cream sandstone with traditional sash windows and cast-iron railings.
There was a small sign which read the hot chocolate hotel next to a gorgeous doorway topped by a glass oval arch.
The hotel looked cosy and inviting inside.
‘Why are you calling, is it just to catch up?’ Izzi checked as she continued to walk.
‘Not entirely. I’ve just had this weird phone call from someone called Cameron Buchanan asking about you,’ Lottie said. ‘It’s early, so I thought I’d better let you know.’
Izzi rolled her eyes. ‘It’s fine. He’s my landlord and the grandson of my new boss.
I gave him your name as a reference because we used to work together.
Sorry I didn’t warn you, I wasn’t expecting him to call immediately.
’ She’d only left his kitchen twenty minutes ago. The man definitely worked fast.
‘He sounded very serious and was quite abrupt,’ Lottie muttered. ‘Interrogated me for at least ten minutes – including asking if you had a criminal record, lied or had ever asked me to invest in anything or asked me to borrow money.’
‘What did you tell him?’ Izzi asked, nibbling her lip.
She wasn’t worried because she’d never done any of those things, but the severe questions had her stomach tightening.
Cameron Buchanan definitely meant business.
Then again, if she’d been left high and dry by a business partner, perhaps she’d be the same.
‘That you’re the most honest person I know, and the best baker too.
I said you were reliable, talented – and that your only fault is if you cook for him, he’ll probably end up putting on tons of weight, so to learn his limits.
Oh, and that you have an irritating habit of liking everyone, even if they’re an arse. ’
Izzi chuckled, imagining Cameron’s reaction to that. ‘What did he say?’
‘He didn’t say anything for a while, then he said you should probably work on that.
I also told him you’ll clean up after yourself and won’t steal the family silver, although he might have to watch out for his heart,’ Lottie said.
‘I don’t think he got that joke either. I’m not sure he’s got much of a sense of humour.
’ She paused. ‘He asked a lot of questions, but I think he was happy with what I told him. At least, he didn’t hang up. ’
‘That’s reassuring.’ Izzi laughed. Hopefully, Lottie had put Cameron’s mind at ease.
She hadn’t started at his grandma’s café yet and was looking forward to getting stuck in today.
She hadn’t baked in a few weeks – she’d been too busy sorting out her aunt’s things – and she was itching to get back to it, to find out what kinds of things she’d be asked to create.
Baking was like breathing for her and she’d missed it.
‘What’s Honey Haven like?’ her friend asked.
Izzi stopped beside a stone building and peered in the antique glass window guessing this was the local bookshop.
There was a leather sofa inside and shelves stuffed with paperbacks and hardbacks.
‘Charming so far,’ she said. ‘I didn’t get much of a chance to look around yesterday because I headed straight for the café, so I’ve not really met anyone aside from Cameron and his grandmother, but I’m starting work in half an hour, so I’ll get the lay of the land then. ’
‘Any sign of your mystery relative?’ Lottie asked.
‘Not yet,’ Izzi whispered before glancing at the empty high street with its quaint cobbled pavement, colourful shop fronts and the terracotta pots lining it with orange and yellow chrysanthemums spilling out.
She popped a hand into her pocket so she could check the letter was still there.
She’d decided not to leave it in the cabin.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Cameron not to search her things, but she wasn’t ready to part with her single link to a family member she’d only just discovered existed.
Finding the letter in her aunt’s things when she’d been packing up the house had been a shock, neither her aunt nor her mother had ever mentioned she had other family.
A couple of years ago Izzi had impulsively signed up to an ancestry website as an urge to see if she had more relations had consumed her. But after a couple of weeks, no one had come up and she’d abandoned the dream. The company had gone into liquidation a year later, so that was that.
Only it hadn’t been. Because when she’d been going through her aunt’s papers, she’d found a letter, which had been forwarded by the ancestry site, addressed to her.
She pulled it from her pocket and unfolded it as a crisp wind rolled past, whipping it up.
She clutched it tighter, re-reading the short letter for about the hundredth time.
Dear Izabel Beaumont,
I hope you’ll be pleased to receive this message.
I am registered with Descendants via DNA, and it appears we may be related.
I’d love to compare notes to confirm our connection.
No pressure but if you’re open to it, I’d like to meet.
I’ve included contact details below. It’s imperative you keep our relationship to yourself, so please don’t mention this to anyone. I’ll explain why when we meet.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Best,
Izzi squinted at the letter and held it up to the rising sunlight.
Everything from that point onwards had been washed away by a brown stain which was probably spilled coffee.
Regina had always liked it strong. The liquid had dissolved the writer’s name and almost all of their contact details.
Nothing aside from ‘Honey Hav—’ remained. The words were faint, but just legible.
‘Izzi, are you okay?’ Lottie asked. ‘Are you reading the letter again?’
‘Sorry.’ Izzi folded it along the crease lines and shoved it back into her pocket.
‘I still don’t understand why Regina didn’t tell me I had other family,’ she said.
‘Mum only talked about her sister, so I thought she was it. We never visited while Mum was alive because they didn’t get on.
’ Her mother had said they were different people and her aunt disapproved of everything about her.
From the way she looked, to the way she lived – she’d even disliked Izzi’s father.
Lottie sighed. ‘Who knows what your aunt was thinking. I’d like to believe her intentions were good, perhaps she only wanted to protect you, but I wonder if she just didn’t want to share you with anyone else,’ her friend said.
‘You’ve always been far too forgiving for your own good, and we all know the only reason Regina’s bakery was such a success was because of you.
She probably didn’t want to run the risk of you being tempted away. Who knows.’
‘Nobody but Regina knows what she was thinking and it’s not like she can tell me. Look I’d better go. I’ll call you tonight – let you know how everything went,’ Izzi promised.
‘Okay – may your cakes rise swiftly and your croissants bring you all the adoration you deserve,’ Lottie joked.