CHAPTER TWENTY
When I woke next morning, the drama of the day before began trundling through my mind, threatening to ruin my morning even before it had started.
Then I remembered.
Barley!
I was collecting him from the rescue shelter in three hours’ time.
Instantly cheered, I headed for the shower, determined that the destructive antics of a certain bitter and twisted woman wouldn’t spoil our first day together. Because I was quite certain now that it was Marguerite who had almost ruined the second meeting of the Pudding Club.
The phone was ringing as I came out of the shower, wrapped in a towel. It was Ellie, calling to make sure I was all right after the debacle of the night before.
‘I’m fine,’ I reassured her quickly. ‘I... I’ve realised there was actually salt in my sugar canister, which was what caused the mix-up.’
‘Oh, no!’ She laughed. ‘So you must have poured salt in the wrong container?’
‘Er, yes. Something like that. But needless to say, it will never happen again.’
‘I know it won’t. And I’ve had people in the café this morning who are already looking forward to the next session.’
‘Really?’ Filled with relief, I dropped onto the bed.
‘Yes. A few of the ladies from the WI were just in for tea and scones, and they were all trying to guess what puddings might be on the menu next Thursday.’
‘Oh, that’s so good to hear, Ellie. I was really hoping I hadn’t put everyone off.’
‘You haven’t. We’ll probably have a full house next week as well. So you’d better get your itinerary organised!’
I chuckled. ‘Yes, boss.’
‘Anyway, better dash. Just glad you’re okay.’
‘Thanks, Ellie. I’m collecting little Barley from the rescue centre today.’
‘Oh, that’s brilliant! Give him a hug and a kiss from me.’
I came off the phone feeling much brighter. And knowing that the day would surely get even better in a few hours’ time, when I picked up Barley and brought him back to his new home.
*****
That night, after a hectic day of non-stop exercise with Barley and an assortment of toys, I relaxed on the sofa with this little ball of fur curled up next to me, sleeping soundly.
It was a good feeling, stroking his soft coat in the silence of the house, as Barley twitched and ran after rabbits in his sleep. I felt grounded and content just to sit there for a while, whereas normally, I’d be on my feet doing jobs around the house, or at least finding something good to watch on TV. I reached down and planted a soft kiss on his head. Barley had obviously been abandoned but I was going to make sure he lived his very best life from now on...
*****
Over the following week, I took scores of photos of Barley in the house, in the garden and at the park, and I took them in to the hospital to show Loli.
She studied every photo eagerly, and I had a feeling she adored Barley already, even though they had still to meet.
My routine had changed in that exercising Barley was now a priority, but when he came back tired out from a long walk, he’d flump on the cool kitchen floor and lie there contentedly for ages, leaving me to get to work on the puddings for my ‘Cold Desserts’ week.
There was so much to do, I didn’t have much time to think about Jensen. Although every time I did, a dark, oppressive cloud seemed to linger over my head. It wasn’t so much that I thought we might be good together, Jensen and I. After he’d showed up at the Pudding Club and then driven away when he realised it was me giving the demonstration, I’d stopped dreaming that the connection I thought I’d felt between us was reciprocated. It was fairly obvious Jensen hadn’t wanted to see me again. Because if he had, he would have come into the café.
The dark cloud was all about Loli and the deal we’d made. I hadn’t been able to find Jensen, so she was standing firm on her decision about the testing.
But both Barley and the Pudding Club were helping to take my mind off this deep-seated worry about Loli – the Pudding Club because I was working so hard to make sure the next session was perfect, and Barley because... well, he was just Barley!
The day before the next Pudding Club evening, I woke early and took Barley for a long hike as usual, first to the park – which he loved because I threw endless balls for him – and then down to the river, where he snuffled happily in the bushes along the river path. I’d been spending lots of time training him and his recall was almost perfect, which meant I could now let him off the lead on the river path, certain he wouldn’t go diving into the water again!
‘I’ll bet you’d love to see your old pal Jenson again, wouldn’t you?’ I murmured to him as I bent down to let him off the lead.
He barked twice, as if agreeing with me, although I knew he was only reacting to the sight of a rabbit disappearing into the undergrowth nearby. I smiled wistfully and glanced up and down the river path but there was no one else in sight.
My current theory was that Jensen was now working in London. He’d been going for an interview for a job in London the day we rescued Barley. If the company had rescheduled his interview, maybe he’d got the job and was now commuting to the city every day. He might even be living there now, although having seen him last week outside the café, that seemed rather less likely.
But in either case, if he was working in London, it meant there was even less of a chance of Barley and me bumping into him in Sunnybrook.
My canine friend was getting tired at last. I could always tell because when I threw a ball, instead of galloping eagerly after it, he’d just stare after it and then go snuffling elsewhere.
‘Come on, you. Time to go home.’ I attached his lead and we started to head back.
We’d just passed the bakery on the high street when I spotted someone I knew coming out of the village store and crossing the road... someone I’d wanted to see, but at the same time didn’t want to see.
Marguerite.
I’d been trying to put her out of my mind since the disaster on Pudding Club night. I was pretty certain she’d sabotaged my sugar, although I hadn’t told anyone about my suspicions because I couldn’t be absolutely sure she did it. It still seemed so unlikely to me that a grown woman would do something so petty and vindictive.
But now was my chance to challenge Marguerite and find out, one way or the other!
My heart in my mouth, I quickened the pace, crossed the road and caught up with her just as she was about to get into her car, which was parked alongside the village green. Not wanting Barley to start jumping up at her – his lessons in good behaviour were very much a work in progress – I shortened the lead and ordered him to sit. To my relief, he obeyed me immediately. Progress!
‘Good boy.’ I tickled his ears and loosened the lead a little as he was panting in the heat. I still needed to buy him a collar. ‘Now, stay!’
Marguerite had turned at the sound of my voice and I caught the look that crossed her face for a second – shock combined with guilt? – before she smoothed it into her usual frosty smile.
‘Annalise, how nice to see you.’
‘Is it? Are you sure?’ I asked lightly.
She eyed me challengingly. ‘I’m not sure what you mean. Has something happened?’
‘Erm, yes, it has, actually. I’ve realised that someone laced the sugar in my kitchen with a very large dose of salt and managed to sabotage my puddings at the event last week. Do you know anything about that, by any chance?’
‘Me? Why on earth should I?’ She smiled smugly. ‘I do hope you’re not accusing me of anything, Annalise.’
‘Not at all.’ I leaned closer, examining her with interest. ‘Gosh, you’ve gone quite rosy-faced all of a sudden. Is it the heat, do you think? Or the guilt because you’re the only one who had access to my kitchen and who could have done the evil deed that day?’ I shook my head regretfully. ‘I haven’t mentioned my suspicions to Maya yet, but I’m sure she’d be interested to hear my theory on who it was who tried to sabotage last week’s meeting of the Pudding Club.’
‘Well, it wasn’t me,’ she muttered, although I could see that the mention of Maya had hit home. She was no doubt thinking that Maya would tell Andrew what she’d done, and I had a feeling her brother’s opinion of her was important to Marguerite.
‘I think I’ll speak to her anyway,’ I announced. ‘Come on, Barley. We’ll call on Maya on our way home.’ I started to walk away, but Marguerite grabbed my arm and held it tightly.
‘Please don’t tell Maya!’
I looked at her in surprise. ‘Oh, so you’re admitting it now, are you? Well, well!’
Her face was like thunder. I had her over a barrel and she knew it. All the same, my heart was beating uncomfortably fast. I hated confrontation. It had taken all my strength to challenge her.
I braced myself for her cutting reply. But strangely, it didn’t happen.
Tears flooded her eyes, although she was still glaring at me.
Then all of a sudden, she seemed to crumple in front of me. Scrabbling in her handbag, she pulled out a paper hanky and blew her nose. ‘Look, I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know why I did it. It was such a stupid thing to do but I... I’ve been feeling so desperate lately.’
‘Desperate?’ I stared at her, totally taken aback, as she tried to fan her bright red face with the wisp of a hanky.
‘Yes, desperate! You’ve no idea! I’ve been trying to keep myself afloat for months now, but everything I did just seemed to have no effect.’ She was staring down at the hanky, mindlessly tearing it into shreds. ‘I tried advertising in the local paper but there was zero uplift in sales. So all I did was waste money I didn’t have. And then last week, the rental company took my car away because I’d got behind with the payments. And I’m behind with the rent on the house as well.’ She looked up at me and I saw the mascara tracks on her cheeks. Her twitchy eye was completely out of control. ‘I really thought my fortunes were changing when Lady Arabella made an appointment to come into the shop. But then you ruined everything by tipping that bloody orange juice all over her jacket.’
‘Erm, that wasn’t my fault. You gave me a sharp nudge that made me...’ I tailed off, realising that blaming one another was futile and beside the point. Marguerite had needed someone to blame for her misfortunes, and I happened to be the unlucky target. I could tell by her defeated look that even she knew it hadn’t been my fault that her wedding boutique business had failed. And it all kind of made sense now. She’d been so stressed when I’d worked for her, snappy all the time and constantly peering at her laptop screen, probably praying for a miracle on the financial front...
The cold-as-ice, sophisticated Marguerite I was used to had turned into a sweaty, snotty agitated mess right in front of my eyes. She looked like a different person altogether, and she was in such a state, I actually found myself feeling sorry for her.
‘I was bitter about your success,’ she whispered, looking up at last. ‘I could see that the Pudding Club was going to be a real success and it wasn’t fair because my business had failed, despite all my hard work. So on the spur of the moment, in your kitchen, I tipped all that salt into your sugar canister. It was such a spiteful thing to do and I’m sorry.’
I shook my head, still barely able to believe what I was hearing. ‘Well, you certainly hit your target. Those puddings tasted dreadful.’
She swallowed. ‘The sticky toffee pudding was nice.’
‘Thanks,’ I said drily.
‘Oh, and by the way, there’s something else I need to tell you.’ She looked up, guilt written across her face.
‘What? Are you going to tell me that you’ve sabotaged the next Pudding Club meeting as well? Should I be checking my flour canisters for builders’ dust? My vanilla essence for soy sauce? My currants for rabbit droppings?’
She shook her head, looking so broken, I said, ‘Look, are you okay to drive home? Do you want to come back to mine for a sit down and a cup of tea first?’ I couldn’t believe I was saying this, but she looked so pathetic and sad.
She gave her head a firm shake. ‘No. Maya might see me and wonder what’s wrong.’ She looked me in the eye. ‘You won’t tell her, will you?’
‘No. I won’t tell her. But I swear, if you do anything like that again...’
She gave an audible sigh of relief. ‘I won’t. I promise. And thank you. I... I know I don’t deserve your kindness, Annalise. And for what it’s worth, I am really sorry. For everything.’
I nodded. ‘Come on. Come back to the house with Barley and me. I’ll put the kettle on and –’
‘No. I’m going home.’ She straightened up and fumbled for her keys. ‘That’s if the landlord hasn’t had the locks changed and thrown me out.’ She gave me a pitiful look and got in.
I watched as she started the car, crunched it into gear and moved off into the traffic, incurring the wrath of a driver behind her, who tooted loudly.
It was only then I remembered she’d been about to confess something else...
I turned to Barley, about to congratulate him on being such a patient good boy.
But he wasn’t there.
I’d been so focused on Marguerite, I’d failed to notice that he’d somehow managed to slip his loosened lead. Hit by a panicky feeling of nausea, I peered frantically up and down the high street, searching desperately for a scampering bundle of toffee-coloured fur.
But Barley had gone.