“A witch’s barbeque,”he teased.
“O ye of little faith.” Millie laughed and his heart felt so much lighter.
Ten minutes later, she handed him a charred twiggy thing wrapped in fat leaves.
“No, thank you.”
“Shut upand eat.”
“What is it?” he said taking it from her, though only out of politeness.
“Try it and I’ll tell you.” The shaky little girl voice was gone. She really could be very assertive when she wanted.
And she knew what she was talking about; the food was tasty in a mild, greeny, crunchy kind of way, the leaves slightly lemony.
“Wild marrow and raw vine leaves.” Millie looked over her shoulder at him.
“And for dessert…?”He winked.
“Wild berries and sweet leaves.”
She explained a little more about her weeds, but mostly, they ate in companionable silence. Millie leaning slightly against his left leg, their earlier strangeness and physical tension seemed to have thawed. He was still grateful he couldn’t see her body from the front, but he was relaxed, comfortable. Happy.
He wouldn’t mind staying like thisall night.
Midnight
“So the real reason you came to Blue Sage Bay,” he said, “was for a vegetarian feast?”
She drank water from the bottle, then passed it to him to wash down his final bite.
“This island is full of incredible flora.” Her voice fizzed with excitement. “It’s my dream, you know. To find a wild patch of land and create somethingamazing.”
“Like what?”
“I used to want ornamental gardens. But since coming to La Canette, my dream has evolved. Now I want wild herbs, edible weeds and flowers. I want a café…” She talked on. But George watched the back of her head, the waves of golden-brown hair brushing the nape of her neck. She was animated and full of excitement.
“…not like that place, Brasserie Pascale,” she said. “Not the kind of restaurant where you have to dress up and speak French. I want a café where people can come asthey are.”
“You mean, where people eat in their underwear.”
Mention of underwear must have made her nervous again, and she looked around for the blanket.
George picked up the ends and pulled them over. His hands, holding the corners of the woven cloth, rested on her knees. It was a tighter cocoon than earlier in the evening, and it felt better.
“So Millie’s Revolution?” he teased her gently. “An empire of green foods?”
“Not an empire, no.” She laughed. “I am a little person; a big business woulddrown me.”
Her words made the hairs rise on the back ofhis neck.
She talked on about finding a small cottage, like this here, a house where she could wake up to the sound ofseagulls.
Every word resonated in his head.I’m a little person. A big business would drown me. I want a small cottage.
Her words unpicked an old, private memory. Something he never talked about, to anyone, didn’t even let himself think about.
Usually.
