‘Surely you feel that way about Ronan,’ said Belle.
‘Of course.’ They were engaged, he’d welcomed her into his family and they were all such wonderful people. His mother was quiet and kind with a touch of class, his father polite and clever. She’d be a part of a clan, a phrase they used often when talking about family, and she quite liked it.
Sebastian came up behind Belle and wrapped his arms around her waist. ‘Think we can go the distance? Fifty years?’
Belle turned in his embrace to put her hands on either side of his face. ‘Definitely. Think we’ll be doing these dinners in fifty years?’
‘Not sure, maybe someone else can be the chef, we’ll be the guests.’
Belle flushed when Sebastian patted her on the bottom. They were a lovely couple – together romantically and in business – and they were both well and truly on the same page. It felt an apt way to think of them when they owned and ran the Bookshop Café in Little Woodville.
Jeremy was talking about how much his wife had enjoyed coastal drives in Devon.
Morgan leaned closer to Belle as they listened in. ‘Jeremy nearly ran me over yesterday,’ she confided so only Sebastian and Belle could hear. ‘I was crossing the high street and he came out of nowhere.’
‘Doesn’t surprise me,’ said Belle as Sebastian took over loading the dishwasher with what he could squeeze in. ‘You’ve got to have eyes in the back of your head when he’s on the roads.’
‘He really should think about stopping driving altogether,’ Sebastian agreed as he picked up more cutlery, ‘but try telling him that. He thinks he’s quite capable of local drives, nipping down to the high street and back, tells me it’s not like he goes on any main roads.’
‘Hardly the point,’ Belle whispered.
‘Maybe I’ll have another quiet word with him,’ said Sebastian, raking a hand through messy, dark hair. ‘Probably best done over a pint at the Rose and Thatch.’
‘You’re a good man.’ Belle planted a kiss on his cheek and despite their guests, it was as though it was the two of them in their own little world.
Morgan wondered – had she and Ronan ever been like that? Maybe at the start. Perhaps the key was that these two didn’t live together yet, whereas she and Ronan had begun sharing her flat pretty quickly after they got together. Maybe they’d leapt right into domestic life and missed one of the most exciting steps. But she supposed the end goal was the same. Being together.
‘I need to rest my voice.’ Belle hooked Morgan’s arm as she led her from the kitchen along the hallway.
Plenty of people were still here but Morgan needed the fresh air and a bit of peace now, so a walk home would do her good.
‘I didn’t get to talk much, my voice is fine,’ Morgan laughed. ‘You were an excellent hostess, by the way, kind of like a permanent fixture.’
Belle rolled her eyes at the teasing. It was nothing she hadn’t heard before because she was always here at the cottage, despite keeping the flat above the Bookshop Café.
But if Morgan was a betting woman, she wouldn’t mind guessing that it wouldn’t be long before Snowdrop Cottage became Belle’s permanent address too.
2
Nate Greene filled a trolley at the supermarket. He was visiting Little Woodville all the way from Wales, but he knew that if he went to his dad Trevor’s place first before he came here, his dad would likely insist that he saved his money rather than restocking his elderly father’s kitchen cupboards. And Nate couldn’t do that. He was staying the entire weekend and he had no intention of letting his dad cook for him or fund all the ingredients. He threw in a couple of packets of his dad’s favourite biscuits and another big box of tea bags.
Nate drove on from there to the village he’d grown up in, his dog Branston, aptly named after his favourite sandwich accompaniment, in the passenger side of his pick-up. But when he pulled up outside his dad’s place and knocked on the front door, there was no answer.
‘Great.’ He looked down at Branston, who was already sniffing around the doorway. ‘What seventy-five-year-old man is out gallivanting at 8p.m. in the evening?’ The spaniel gazed up at him as if pondering the same.
Nate went back over to the pick-up to get Branston’s lead. He doubted his dad would be too long – he was probably at the pub or a neighbour’s place – so they’d have a decent walk, which they both needed after being stuck in traffic for so long. The perishables – the milk and the cheese – would be fine in the truck now that the sun had gone down and darkness wrapped the Cotswold village.
Nate had grabbed a torch as well as the lead and set off towards the village high street, but the long way round. It was a walk they were both familiar with, down the country lanes, and once they’d tackled those devoid of a pavement, he let Branston off the lead. He was well-trained and, no longer a puppy, he was usually predictable and well-versed at coming to heel.
They cut through the churchyard and emerged onto the high street at the far end. From there, they walked along and through the main drag of the village, the Rose and Thatch pub like a warming beacon at the top of the village green to his left. He’d always liked it in the country pub, with its friendly clientele and staff, and he knew his dad did. Perhaps they’d have a chance for a cheeky pint this weekend. There wasn’t always time given Nate usually had to get back to his plumbing business in Wales, with client demands always high. Leaky toilets and faulty piping rarely had the decency to let him have an extended time off unless he made special arrangements.
Branston trotted along beside him, stopping to sniff at the odd shrub or patch on the pavement, lifting his nose in curiosity as he detected different scents on the air, and they continued all the way to the very end before they crossed back over when the pavement ran out before the road led its way out of the village. Coming back down the other side towards Little Woodville’s centre again, he stopped when he saw the Bookshop Café and peered in the window. Sebastian and Belle had done well. This place was once a photography studio but that had been some time ago and it was now a far cry from what it had once been.
Nate didn’t know Belle more than in passing but he remembered Sebastian and had bumped into him enough times at the Rose and Thatch to be friendly. It would be good to catch up with him again if he got a chance. Perhaps he’d come back in the daytime to check out the Bookshop Café properly on his next visit, bring his dad for cake and a coffee or mug of tea or a light lunch of soup if he’d read the menu inside the front door correctly. It looked like the café was at the rear, but he couldn’t see all that well now that it was dark, even when he tried to shine his torch through the glass. And he didn’t want to trigger any sort of alarm.
They walked on. Sebastian was in business with his girlfriend and Nate wondered how it would feel to be that secure with someone.
For some people, it worked out.
