Tia looks up from scrolling through the pictures a short time later. ‘After all this running around I’m ravenous. How about we kill two birds with one stone and let Lando film us buying cakes from the bakery?’
I nod enthusiastically as I take back my phone. I have to admit that he got some great shots. ‘And then we’ll go to the gallery and eat the cakes on the deck.’
I’ve somehow missed that Lando’s next to me, looking over my shoulder.
‘Who’s that in the picture on your wallpaper?’ He must sense that he’s overstepped, because he backs straight off. ‘They’ve got a lovely smile, that’s all.’
My heart skips a beat, and then starts banging against my chest wall.
It’s my own fault. What was I thinking, waltzing around town with Nemmie burying her cheek against Angel on my home screen? My two favourite beings in the world. My family. I should have swapped the photo, but that would have been like admitting Lando was going to disrupt our life.
I rehearse it in my head before I say it. That’s Angel and Nemmie. As long as my voice doesn’t wobble and give me away, I can do this.
‘That’s Angel and?—’
Before I get any further he cuts in. ‘Cool name for a girl.’
I can’t believe this has already gone so wrong. ‘Angel’s my dog. His full title is Archangel Michael of Uxbridge, but that’s a bit of a mouthful, and he’s truly not that angelic.’ I can’t put this off any longer. I feel like I’m about to swallow a balloon. ‘The child he’s nuzzling is Nemmie. You knew I had a daughter?’
The question hangs in the air, and it feels like light years pass while no one replies.
His expression doesn’t change, but eventually his mouth moves. ‘I did hear, yes. But not her name.’
I carry on. ‘Nemmie’s short for Anemone. She’s nine, and Angel’s approximately five. Salvador got him from a rescue as a pup, then immediately left him with me.’
Lando shakes his head. ‘No surprise there.’
I’d meant to keep Salvador out of this, and dissing him to Lando isn’t getting us anywhere, so I claw that back. ‘Angel and I are very happy with that outcome. He was supposed to be small, but he just kept growing.’
Lando frowns. ‘Did you rescue Nemmie as well?’
‘Mum still does foster care, but Nemmie’s mine.’ I need to justify myself, make it sound more deliberate. ‘Some people leave uni desperate for a career, but I wanted a baby and I’ve never regretted that choice.’
Lando’s eyes are wide. ‘I’m happy it’s working out for you.’
‘I have half-siblings around Nemmie’s age. We’ve extended the kitchen and we all live together at home.’
Lando looks wistful. ‘Your mum always liked her house full back in the day. It’s good to know that’s not changed.’
Tia’s giving me a nudge. ‘It’s great to reminisce, but shouldn’t we get back to the job in hand?’
Lando jumps in. ‘You’re right! The bakery! I noticed on my way up it’s still Crusty Cobs!’
Tia picks that up and runs with it. ‘They still do all the old favourites too. Their coffee eclairs are to die for; their apricot pastries are pure heaven; their custard slices are the best in the west…’
By the time we arrive at the shop she’s listed every cake in the history of the universe, while I have barely begun to process the significance of what I’ve just shared with Lando.
Lando pauses by the door. ‘Maybe some stills of you both looking at the cakes in the window would work, then I’ll film you at the counter?’
I stare blankly at his outstretched hand, then land back in the present with a bump. ‘Great, you’ll be needing this then.’
His smile fades as he takes my phone. ‘I’m sorry about before. I didn’t mean to overstep.’
My laugh is like an explosion. ‘You absolutely didn’t. Everyone and their aunt has seen that picture; there’s nothing to apologise for.’ I give a shrug and try to normalise this. ‘There’s a lot of catching up to do. As far as we know you could have a people carrier full of your own kids back home.’
He shakes his head. ‘I’ve yet to put down roots, and kids aren’t on my agenda either. I can’t think of anything less appropriate, more unlikely or terrifying. There was very little in my childhood I’d want to replicate.’ He pulls a card out of his pocket. ‘Anyway, please let me get the cakes.’
I give a sniff. ‘Sav certainly wouldn’t have grumbled if he’d been given a Land Rover at seventeen and a flat of his own for uni. Or unlimited access to a sailing fleet.’
