I clear my throat. ‘I’ve already started supplying the hotel with freshly baked scones, cake, and puddings in teensy cups that guests can have as standalones, and for any proper afternoon teas the hotel will add in bite-sized sandwiches with astonishingly luxurious fillings, and delicately crafted miniature savoury pastries. They’re working those up now.’
Clemmie’s nodding. ‘And they’ll serve them on suitably impressive multi-tier glass platters once they buy them, but in the meantime, they’re borrowing some of mine.’
I’m really excited about the next bit. ‘They’ve already put a photo of one of my scones with a dollop of clotted cream and jam up on the website, so it looks like they’re giving it a serious try.’
Nell runs her fingers through her hair. ‘I could murder one of your puddings now, Flossie. But stuff anything minuscule, I’d need mine in a trifle bowl.’
It feels mean teasing someone who’s so tired that they’re wearing their shirt inside out, but I can’t resist. ‘If you promise to come to the next get-together at The Hideaway, I’ll make you one specially.’ I take in the sudden downturn of her mouth, and backtrack. ‘For now, you’ll have to make do with a lemon and meringue pie that’s so big it only just fitted through your kitchen door.’
Nell punches the air. ‘Just what the doctor ordered, Floss!’ Then her fist drops and her voice goes all small. ‘The way things are going, I may never leave the house again. By the time I get baby George and me ready to go out, one of us is always too hungry to set off.’ She blows out her cheeks. ‘I can’t ever see us moving past that.’
Clemmie rocks Arnie’s baby seat with her foot and rubs Nell’s knee. ‘Is it any easier when grown-up George is home?’
Nell looks at the ceiling. ‘He hasn’t been back to the office yet; he’s still working from upstairs!’ She pulls a face. ‘At least I’m dressed. He’s still in his pyjamas with a shirt on top for Zoom calls.’
There’s a tap on the living room door and a face appears.
I swallow my surprise. ‘Milla! What are you doing here? And Tallulah, too!’
Milla swings her rucksack off her shoulders, and they each pull up a pouffe. ‘We pop in most days after school to check Nell’s okay.’ She puts a large box down on the coffee table. ‘We’ve come via the doughnut stall today. Six iced, six sugared, six jam. I hope that won’t be too many?’
Nell laughs. ‘I’m eating for two and George is eating for three, so we’ll soon blast through those.’
Milla purses her lips. ‘I couldn’t help hearing what you were saying as we came in.’ She leans towards Nell and squeezes her hand. ‘The first few weeks with a newborn are very full-on. Itwillget better.’
It’s not lost on me. However rebellious Milla’s being with Sophie, she’s still amazingly empathetic with everyone else.
Clemmie picks up on what she’s saying and adds, ‘Don’t worry, Nell, it gets easier as they grow.’
Milla pushes a strand of dark hair off her forehead. ‘Even my superwoman mother stayed at home with her babies! When she had Marcus and Tilly,andMaisie, Nate took me to places for ages.’
Nell’s still clinging to her fingers. ‘Thanks for reminding me, Milla. Somehow I thought I’d be straight back out there.’
Milla’s eyes flash. ‘I seriously hope Mum didn’t tell you that! She’s so full of crap at times, it’s very irresponsible!’
I have to call her out on this. ‘Milla! Let’s try to be nice.’
Milla rolls her eyes. ‘You asked her to meet me halfway, Aunty Flo, and she’s still dressing like a mint mousse.’ Milla’s voice rises to a shriek. ‘She pretends she’ll change, then doesn’t. That’s what’ssofrustrating!’ She drops her voice again. ‘Sorry, George and Arnie, I didn’t mean to disturb you.’
I’ve been pondering this a lot lately. ‘We’re going to have to step in!’ I’m pretty happy with what I’ve come up with. How Sophie will feel about it is something else entirely. ‘I’mgoing to re-style her wardrobe!’
Milla’s clapping her hands. ‘Brilliant!’
Clemmie’s smiling. ‘Inspired! All we’ve got to do now is to persuade her to join in!’
I still have to put my mind to that one. ‘That’s settled then. We’re all agreed we’ll give it a try?’
‘Totally!’ Milla’s frowning. ‘I’ve got one other question…’
I’m hoping it’s less exacting than Milla’s usual ones, because I’m still very hazy on the detail, but I make my smile enthusiastic. ‘Yes?’
Milla gives a cough. ‘If the rumours are true that you and Kit went for a midnight swim at High Tides in your underwear – how did you keep your hands off him, Aunty Flo?’
The only way to deal with that is to go out to get the lemon meringue pie.
33
Sandpiper Books, St Aidan
