‘You noodle.’ Bets shook her head, biting her lip, making an obvious effort not to laugh.
‘It gets worse.’ Ella’s eyes danced at the memory. ‘I added an extra one in because I was worried about it not rising.’ Ella snorted and then burst out laughing, waving at the curious crowd who clearly thought she’d gone mad.
What a berk. No wonder they’d risen so well at first. They must taste disgusting. The more she tried to school her face to sympathise with the two judges who were valiantly trying to swallow down the cake, the funnier she found it.
The judges stared at her.
It was no good, Ella couldn’t stop the tears of laugher rolling down her face. The whole room turned to look at her.
She faced them, clutching her middle, almost doubled over. ‘T-tell them, Bets,’ she gasped as tears ran down her cheeks.
‘She got her teaspoons muddled up with tablespoons,’ announced Bets in a very loud voice. ‘Two tablespoons of baking powder. But it rose.’
People in the room began to smile, many laughing out loud, those nearest clapping her on the back. They weren’t laughing at her, they were laughing with her. There was a difference and it felt good. No, it felt great.
When she glanced across the room towards Devon, this time he smiled properly.
Chapter Thirty-Five
‘Mum! You’re bright and early.’ What on earth was her mother doing sitting outside her house, in her father’s big Mercedes, at this time of day? ‘Have you been waiting long?’
‘Morning, darling.’ She stepped out of the car and gave Ella a kiss on the cheek. ‘Gosh, you’re positively glowing. Full of beans.’
‘It’s a bit blustery down by the reservoir this morning. Poor Tess, I thought her ears might blow off.’ They’d had a very brisk walk this morning.
Her mother looked at her expectantly. Had she missed something? ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Fine. Fine.’ There it was, that too-bright tone. ‘You didn’t get my text?’
‘No. Not even looked at my phone this morning.’ Deliberate policy. She didn’t want to see that Devon hadn’t texted. Didn’t want to see that he hadn’t sent an apology, saying he’d over-reacted and how grateful he should have been to her. It had been a week since the village fayre and she hadn’t seen him at all. The idiot.
Her mother followed her into the cottage. Tess trotted straight into the kitchen and Ella automatically grabbed her water bowl to refill it. As usual Tess lapped at the water like a desert explorer who’d just reached an oasis.
‘Coffee?’ asked Ella, filling up the sink with hot water to wash up her breakfast dishes.
‘No, I can’t stop. Good news. Mrs Bosworth is out of hospital and her sister decided to come and collect her. She’s relentedand said that Tess can go to Kent with them while Mrs Bosworth recuperates. So Tess can go home.’
The plate slipped through Ella’s boneless fingers, sinking back into the iridescent bubbles, which suddenly blurred.
‘What?’ she asked, trying to process the words.
‘Tess is going home.’
Tesswashome. In her basket. In the corner of the room lying in her bed pretending to be exhausted after their walk, having hoovered up every last stray toast crumb and looking pitiful, with her usualisn’t it time for a second breakfast or a snacketteexpression on her face.
Ella let out a tiny incoherent gasp at the sudden twist of pain, unable to frame any words. Her mother was talking, in jolly, upbeat, hurrying tones.
‘ . . . strike while the iron’s hot and your father didn’t need the car. Not first thing, although he’s playing golf at eleven. So if you can just gather all the dog paraphernalia together.’
‘What?’ Although her mother had clearly issued a call to action, Ella struggled to process the words. It was as if her brain had frozen and she’d lost the ability to command her limbs.
‘Her things, dear.’
‘Her things?’ echoed Ella.
‘Yes, dear.’ A touch of impatience crept into her mother’s voice. ‘Lead. Bowl. Bed. Food.’
‘Right.’ Ella waved a limp arm towards the larder and then another towards the hall.
