But as she turned, her gaze went out of the window. Her heart leapt for a moment at the sight of two young women on the other side of the road, one with blonde hair, the other dark hair. For a minute she’d thought it was Addie and Susanna.
Her spirits sank when she realised it wasn’t.
Were they ever going to come into the café?
If they couldn’t do it now, was there even any chance they would hang around for the living funeral? And if not, when should she tell them the other thing she’d been keeping to herself?
Life was complicated. Life was hard.
So she went into the kitchen and did what she did best: she pulled out ingredients, made another batch of her signature custard, and then baked another enormous apple crumble.
18
SUSANNA
When Addie came downstairs, she took one look at Susanna with her laptop on the kitchen table and frowned. ‘You work too hard.’
‘I’m not working… at least, not any more.’ Not like last night, when she’d used the work excuse to escape the dinner table. Aunt Gayle had barely touched the stew Addie had made for their evening meal and when she’d started talking about the living funeral, the bunting, the food, and the arrangements, Susanna had wanted to avoid being asked the direct question of whether she was going, and even more so, she didn’t want to hear that Addie had decided she definitely was.
Now, with six days to go, they were going to have to make a decision about the event sooner rather than later.
Susanna had also wanted to escape the dinner table last night because her head was all over the place thinking about Mateo and their encounter after all these years. It had been on her mind ever since she’d fallen into his arms at the marina. Last night, she’d dreamt about him and when she woke, she’d felt terribly guilty, as if she’d cheated on Alex. In the dream, Mateo had kissed her just like the first time. It was almost as if last night in her dream she’d been able to feel exactly the way she had back then as their bodies had drawn closer, arms around one another, and they’d had a kiss so tender she’d thought she might pass out.
‘What are you up to if it isn’t work?’ Addie pulled the box of bran flakes from the cupboard and tucked it under her arm, before reaching for a bowl and then a spoon from the drawer. She brought everything over to the table.
‘I’m trying to find this cottage on Airbnb,’ Susanna explained. ‘I’m just being nosy and wondering how it’s being advertised.’
‘And…?’ Bran flakes tumbled into her bowl before she added milk from the fridge.
‘And I’m not having much luck. No matter what search parameters I put in, I still can’t find it.’ Addie didn’t seem all that interested, so she closed down her laptop.
‘Where’s Aunt Gayle? Is she at work?’ Milk dribbled from Addie’s spoon and splashed a few drops onto the table.
‘I assume so. Did she mention the living funeral again last night after I left the table?’
‘She told me about the colour scheme and the guest list and how she’s drawn up a schedule to ensure it all goes smoothly.’
‘So she didn’t ask us whether we are going?’
Addie shook her head. ‘I think she’s probably too scared to.’
‘I doubt that.’
Addie began to smile. ‘You know, you and she are quite alike.’
‘Really?’
‘You’re both determined, a little bit on the bossy side, and you’re both headstrong too, just like Dad must have been with his café business until he lost it.’
Susanna sighed. ‘Maybe he didn’t fight hard enough to keep it.’
Addie bristled. ‘I don’t remember it, obviously, but by the sounds of it he did everything he could.’
‘Sorry, I’m just ratty. I need to get outside for a bit.’
Clearly Addie hadn’t finished. ‘Dad told me he had to let the café go because he couldn’t afford to run it. We talked about it. I remember even though I was really young – it stuck in my head how sad he seemed. You never gave him the benefit of the doubt.’
‘He was our dad and I loved him, Addie. We both did.’ She changed the topic. ‘So, are we going?’
