Liz took a deep breath as she nodded. ‘Yes. I know we’ve only just met, but somehow we’ve connected as friends. Last night, we talked and talked.’ She would not tell Isobel how many pictures of Guy from last night kept floating into her brain and disturbing her thoughts.
24
When Zoe arrived Sunday afternoon to help prep the evening meal – roast pork with all the trimmings – Guy was humming happily to himself as he soaked slices of sponge in a mixture of coffee with a generous helping of coffee liqueur.
‘Tiramisu for dessert tonight?’
Guy nodded.
‘Favourite dessert of mine,’ Zoe said.
‘You’re not alone in that.’ Guy smiled.
‘Hope there’s some left over for your favourite employee.’ Zoe looked at him hopefully.
‘Who’s my favourite employee?’ Guy asked, looking around. ‘There’s only you here.’
‘Who will leave you in the lurch if I don’t at least get to scrape that bowl.’ Zoe gave him a mock glare and he smiled.
‘Consider it yours.’
* * *
Later that evening when Guy unexpectedly took the tiramisu dessert out to the table, Sandy rather naughtily said, ‘Ladies, meet the elusive Guy Lyon, chef extraordinaire. I think he has made us one of his specialities.’
‘Good evening, ladies. It’s good to meet you all finally,’ and Guy gave everyone a friendly smile, trying hard not to smile too hard in Liz’s direction, who was trying equally hard not to look at him too long. ‘Enjoy the tiramisu – I have it on good authority that for some of you it is a favourite dessert.’ Another smile and he left.
Two hours later after the kitchen had been cleaned and shut down for the night, Guy had his after-work shower and was sitting out on the roof terrace with a glass of wine, trying to figure out why he’d changed his mind about staying behind the scenes of the retreat. It had been a late night last night, but he’d slept better than he had in months for those few hours. He’d definitely felt more energised all day. More human than he had in the last few months.
Last evening had been one of the best evenings he’d enjoyed in a long time. Liz had to be one of the loveliest women he’d ever met in every way. She was beautiful and so kind. From the few hints she had given about her ex-husband, he’d guess the man had been difficult to live with – treating her badly, as well as being a bit of a control freak. Guy took a sip of his drink. He was glad he was unlikely to ever meet the man because he suspected he would find it difficult to be civil to him.
The dispiriting thought Liz was only here for another week slipped into his mind. Would they keep in touch? Would she want to? Maybe it would be better not to see too much of her this week, it would probably make it easier when she left next Sunday. He smothered a sigh. It was so refreshing meeting someone new. Someone who hadn’t known him in his previous life as a top chef or as the husband of Jacqueline. Something told him he would regret it if he didn’t give this new friendship every chance. So, he was going to spend as much time as possible with her, to make some good memories for when she had gone home, in the hope that it would make moving on with his life a little easier.
Next time they met he would ask her for her number so they could message each other, but for now he would make do with a note pushed under her door. He quickly fetched a piece of paper from his room.
I hope you enjoyed your dessert tonight? Fancy afternoon tea in our secret cafe tomorrow afternoon about three o’clock? If you can’t make it, no worries.
And running quickly downstairs, he pushed the note under her door. Fingers crossed she would see it and it wouldn’t disappear under the threshold of the door.
* * *
Sunday in England
When Joan and Harry had first moved into the village all those years ago, the pub had been a typical countryside establishment with indifferent food. A series of independent owners gradually upgraded its amenities until these days it was a gastropub with a renowned chef. Joan and Maureen had Sunday lunch there practically every week, justifying it by telling themselves it wasn’t worth cooking a roast for one at home. Sometimes it was just the two of them, sometimes three if Helena or Teddy joined them. On rare occasions, the four of them enjoyed lunch together. It was even rarer for them to be a group of five, but Joan treasured those lunches when Leon was home too and joined them. They were always such good fun.
Joan was looking forward to seeing Maureen and Teddy as she walked through the village on Sunday morning, Bella on her lead at her side. She liked Teddy. He’d grown into his childhood nickname and was a gentle bear of a man these days. Secretly she and Maureen had hoped for years that he and Helena would end up together, but so far there was no indication of their special friendship becoming more.
Maureen and Teddy had managed to get a garden table in the shade and gave Joan a wave as she arrived.
Once she and Bella were settled, their food ordered and the three of them had a drink, Joan smiled at the two of them. ‘Thank you so much for agreeing to look after Bella.’
‘Our pleasure,’ Maureen said. ‘When exactly are you off?’
‘Tuesday midday, flying back the following Monday. Is that all right? I could come back on the Friday, but it seemed silly not to stay a little longer, especially as Leon will probably be away for a few months when the yacht leaves Antibes.’
Maureen shook her head. ‘Not a problem.’
‘I’ll drive you to the airport. What time do you have to leave?’ Teddy asked.
