His smile told me I had, even if it was just about barbecue tonight and I only ever saw him again afterwards at the school gates.
Cassian knocked on my front door at two minutes to six, a bottle of prosecco in one hand and a carrier bag full ofsomethinginthe other. He looked freshly scrubbed and clean shaven, like he’d made an effort, so maybe that was just the kind of man he was.
My heart rate hadn’t found a steady beat since before I’d arrived at Heidi’s school to pick her up, and it definitely wasn’t going to now.
“The wine’s for you; the stuff in the bag is a contribution. Plus a cake for dessert – I know you bought one already from the cakery, but I figured it wouldn’t go to waste.”
He gave me the wine and followed me through to the kitchen and straight out of the kitchen door where Heidi, Mia and I had set the garden up to make it look like a music festival. She had a tent that she’d been begging to sleep in, I had a picnic bench painted in a bright yellow with flowers dotted across it. The borders were filled with deliberately planted wildflowers and I’d made a sort of bar from pallets that I’d picked up at Thane’s boatyard.
“This is something.” He grinned at the sight. “It’s like a mini-Glastonbury.”
“Have you ever been? To Glastonbury?”
“Three times. Before I became a teacher, because it isn’t in school holidays and they kind of restrict some stuff. You?”
I nodded. “Three times too. All before Heidi was born. A small child kind of restricts a lot of stuff.”
We laughed at the same time, a tad of awkwardness sprinkled in. “What do I call you? Mr Caddick seems awfully formal for a Friday night.”
“Cas. Just so you know, I let the chair of governors know that I was coming here. There was no way someone wouldn’t find out and if it got back to Mavis, the whole town would already know.” He started to unpack the bag, pulling out a few beers and then chocolate, popcorn and crisps. Everything but the beer looked like it had been bought with the small children in mind, who were now gusting through to us.
“Mr Caddick!”
Heidi came to an emergency stop, clearly not knowing how exactly you greeted your headteacher when you saw him outside of school, even though we’d been through this before.
He offered her a fist bump and my daughter’s smile grew tenfold. He did the same with Mia, already she was more cautious, wary. I hoped one day she wouldn’t feel she needed to be so chary.
“So, Romy says you’re the chef.”
Mia looked at me wide-eyed and shook her head.
Heidi stepped forward. “I want to be the chef but mummy says I’m not allowed near hot things.”
He tipped his head to one side. “You sure about that?”
Heidi nodded vigorously. “I’m sure. I can pour my own drinks though as long as I do it outside and over the flowers. I planted all the flowers.”
I let her chew his ear off for the next ten minutes, Mia chirping in the odd word, giving him a tour of the garden while I started to barbecue the ribs and steaks I’d marinated and the obligatory sausages and tried to talk my heart rate into a semi-acceptable speed that wouldn’t require paramedic intervention in the next three hours.
I had no idea what I was doing. Cas Caddick was my daughter’s headteacher, a professional in the town who was highly regarded, and while I wasn’t exactly a pariah, I was the mother of the daughter of one of the town’s forever heroes.
He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested. I didn’t want a real life love interest. The fictional ones would suffice for now.
And I was massively over thinking everything.
Heidi distracted herself with her books after reading one to Mr Caddick, who listened patiently before he headed over to the barbecue.
“I wish I had her energy.”
I looked up into dark brown eyes that reminded me of cocoa. “You and me both. Can I get you a beer?”
“No, I’ll get it. What can I get you? Wine? Beer? A pint of rum?” Those eyes danced.
“The rum is tempting, but the idea of a hangover and the Saturday morning version of Heidi is a better deterrent than my father catching me coming in drunk when I was seventeen, so a glass of wine would be great. There are the random beers in the fridge in the kitchen as well as the ones you brought – you didn’t need to do that, by the way.”
His grin was far too boyish. “You’re right, I didn’t, but I did anyway. I didn’t trust the ones you had in after that description.”
He returned with drinks for both of us and proved better than me at keeping conversation flowing. Before the food was ready, we’d talked about Glastonbury and music, finding we had some obscure bands in common, and then went down the topic of sports.
