“Anything’s better than that film.”
He laughs. “True, but I think we can do better than football.”
He takes the remote from me and flicks through the channels again. We end up with reruns of an American police procedural series, which we watch until we’re both yawning and struggling to keep our eyes open.
“I’ve got an early start,” I say, patting his arm to indicate he should move so I can get up.
“Lots of trees to take care of?”
“You make it sound like I put plasters on them and say there, there or something.” I’m a tree surgeon.
Fitz giggles. “And a wonderful job you do of it too. Every time I see a tree with a plaster on, I thinkAddy’s taken good care of that tree.” He gasps dramatically. “You’re the tree whisperer!”
“The what?”
“The tree whisperer. You talk to trees and get them to grow better.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Fitz rolls onto his back and flops his arm over his head. “Now I’m disappointed.”
“You’re crazy.”
He grins. “Which is why you love me.” He covers his face as he yawns. “I’m your oldest, bestest friend.”
“You’re my only friend.”
He wags his finger at me. “Not true. Everyone loves you.”
“You’re mistaking me for you again.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“You are. You’re the popular one. I’m the guy who fades into the background. And I’m quite happy with that, thank you very much. The fewer people I have to talk to, the better.”
“Well, you’re going to have to talk to at least one other person this month.”
“Who?”
He rolls his eyes. “Your blind date.”
“Fine, I’ll talk to youandher. Whoever she is.”
Chapter2
Fitz
I do all the baking in the morning before A Spot of Tea opens for business in time for lunch. Technically, we specialise in afternoon tea, but I’m never going to turn down the local lunch crowd. I don’t offer a vast menu at lunchtime. Toasted sandwiches are our main staple, along with salads and homemade soup. And cakes. There arealwayscakes for sale.
I divide my time between serving, decorating cakes, and preparing food. I have two regular members of staff. When the shop is bustling, we all share the load. When it’s quieter, Janine goes and does deliveries while Bobby and I take care of the shop.
I’m taking a stint in the kitchen when Janine comes in, grinning. She slaps a piece of paper with an order down in front of me.
“Your admirer’s lunch order,” Janine says. “You should serve it to her yourself. I’ll take over in here. Are you going to put her out of her misery today?”
