‘It would’ve done the same to my mum as well. She used to accuse me of hovering too much as it was.’ She said it with fondness rather than anything else, remembering the banter, the smiles, the happiness as well as any sadness.
Their moment was interrupted by Sadie handing out freebies. ‘These aren’t mine – these are on behalf of Trina from the bakery stall.’ She held out the tray of muffins for Nate and Morgan to take one each. ‘She said these aren’t very popular and she made too many. Please, take two, they’re small.’
‘Not going to argue,’ said Nate.
‘Me neither.’ Morgan plucked two as well before Sadie went on her way to the next stall.
Morgan looked at the muffins. ‘There’s nothing small about these.’
‘Nope, I’d say they’re proper muffin size. Should we be worried that she’s getting rid of them and making people take double portions?’
‘Only one way to know.’ Morgan bit into the fluffy, light, banana oat muffin at the same time as Nate did. ‘I don’t know how these aren’t popular,’ she said before taking another bite. She laughed when he bit half of his muffin in one go. ‘Wow, sure you don’t want to put it all in at once?’
When he finished his mouthful, he lifted up his second muffin. ‘Challenge accepted.’ And proceeded to put the whole thing into his mouth. But as he did so, a customer appeared at his stall and asked whether Nate could make one of the wooden bath caddies to order.
Morgan came to the rescue and did her best to talk to the customer while Nate turned his back as his face took on an odd purplish colour at the task of chomping down the muffin as quickly as possible.
‘Let me take a note of your requirements,’ she suggested to the customer, trying to ignore Nate behind her, doing his best to finish so he could take over his side of the stall again. ‘Do you have them?’
The woman’s brow furrowed as she leaned around Morgan. ‘Is he all right?’
Morgan briefly turned to see Nate’s eyes watering as she looked at him from the side but other than that, he was fine. ‘Don’t worry about him – late lunch,’ she said as if that explained everything. Pen in hand, she wrote down the details the woman had recorded on her phone and read out to her.
When Nate eventually turned round as though nothing had happened, he thanked Morgan and took over telling the woman that of course he could make one to order but that the one he had here at the stall should be fine. He measured it to show her.
‘I thought it looked far too big for my daughter’s bath but it’s the right size.’ The woman seemed surprised but happy. ‘My daughter loves a bubble bath. She’s always reading too. Dropped her Kindle in the water last week; her husband wasnothappy, let me tell you.’
‘There’s a section for a book.’ Nate pointed to the place on the caddy where the e-reader could be propped.
More than happy with her purchase, the woman went on her way.
‘Enjoy the muffin?’ Morgan asked, breaking into laughter until tears streamed down her cheeks. It wasn’t long before he joined in.
‘Don’t ever let me do that again.’ He swigged from a bottle of water. ‘But I like that I make you laugh. Admit it: you’re going to miss me when I’m gone.’
She couldn’t deny it. Nate was leaving in a week. Which meant she was running out of time with him.
18
Nate had spent the last three days since the markets wishing he would bump into Morgan, but she seemed to have been keeping herself busy with whatever she was up to and perhaps that was a good thing. He’d heard from Bud in Wales that he had so much work on, Nate would be straight into it when he returned in less than a week, both with the jobs Nate had already booked in and the extras Bud had taken on when there was only one of him. He’d gone the extra mile too and had told Nate that he and his mum walked past Mrs Featherton’s place a few days back, knocked on the door to check on her and had ended up going inside to share the red velvet cake she’d made. The two women had apparently hit it off, sharing baking tips, and were meeting up next week to bake a chocolate sponge together.
Nate walked over the humpback bridge on a summer’s day that was unfortunately overcast and bereft of the usual brightness the time of year brought with it. But Branston was happily trotting along beside him and wagged his tail at the sight of Jeremy coming towards them.
‘Jeremy, how are you doing?’ Nate had got used to the way people in Little Woodville always had the time to stop in the street and ask after one another. Maybe they did that where he lived in Wales too, but he was usually so busy, he’d probably never noticed.
‘I’ve been on the bus to Bourton-on-the-Water.’ His enthusiasm bubbled away; there was colour in his cheeks. ‘I’m glad to be back now, though. Stunning place but ridiculously busy.’
‘I went with Mum once around Christmas. She loved the little shops.’
‘I thought I could sit by the water and watch the world go by.’ Jeremy harrumphed. ‘Had a better time on the bus.’
‘You’re getting the hang of public transport by the sounds of it.’
‘Have to: I’m selling the car.’
‘You are?’ He hoped Jeremy hadn’t felt pressured; he hoped his talking about it the other day had been helpful rather than making him feel at all bad.
‘It’s time.’ And actually he looked happy about it rather than anything else. ‘I wouldn’t have driven to such a popular village today so I wouldn’t have got to go. Can’t imagine what parking costs there, given the price I had to pay for an ice-cream.’
