He pulls back until he can meet my eyes. ‘I’m not sure I’ll ever be fully, truly, completely happy again, but I can find the happy moments in each day and that’s enough for me.’
I like that. He’s someone who has seen the absolute worst life has to offer, but he’s come through it without letting it make him bitter or angry. I can’t imagine coming out the other side of that and still being able to look on the bright side.
‘After the divorce was finalised and the house was sold, I couldn’t face the thought of my old job. I had nowhere to live and no reason to stay in London, so I came here. I thought I could fix the place up, turn it into the family home I’d promised Zach it would be, but it was insomuch worse of a state than I’d imagined, and I’m not a builder, so…’
‘So now you’re the proud owner of a pub you don’t know what to do with?’ I finish his sentence when he trails off, and he nods in response.
‘Are you disappointed I’m not Jake Gyllenhaal?’
I can’t help the unexpected laugh that bursts out. ‘To be honest, I’d be disappointed if youwereJake Gyllenhaal at this point.’
He nudges his shoulder against mine. ‘I think that’s a compliment.’
‘Itisa compliment.’ I nudge my shoulder back against his. ‘And while I might get over the lack of Hollywood celebrities coming to our village, Madge won’t. You might have to let her sculpt you naked to make up for it.’
He laughs too, a proper belly laugh. There’s a lot to be said for finding the good moments in each day.
After a little while of simply sitting together, he stretches and looks around, seeming to realise it’s got dark for the first time.
‘Good thing I came prepared.’ He shrugs the rucksack off, digs out two torches, and hands one to me, and then we scooch across the tree trunk and back to the riverbank.
‘It’s so dark. Take my hand.’ Reece shines his torch on the ground in front of us and insists on keeping my fingers wrapped protectively in his.
‘After all that, do you think I’m ever going to letgoof your hand? You’re going to have to sleep in the campervan tonight because I’m not letting go of your hand long enough for you to get away.’
He laughs like he thinks I’m joking, and even though Iam, really, I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to say goodnight to him when we get back, and I’m already plotting something I could bake as an excuse to get him to stay for a while.
There are men who hide things like cheating from you, and there are others who are gentle and lovely, and have been through absolute hell, and still come out the other side with a warm smile and kindness to everyone who crosses their paths, even if they cross their paths by running them over with a stolen campervan, and stealing Jared’s campervan has become the best thing I’ve ever done, because if I hadn’t, I would never have got here, and I would never have met Reece. It feels like everything has changed in the space of this conversation. Not just what I know about him, but how I feel about him. This raw honesty and trust is starting to feel like the most important thing I’ve ever known.
18
Three weeks after opening, the Marzipan Campervan Café has become something I never dreamed it could be. Word has spread not just among walkers, but throughout the local villages, and I’m serving everyone from seasoned hikers on long round trips and families on days out to elderly couples who come on the gentle meander up from the village and stop here just to sit beside the river and enjoy tea and cake.
What started as a couple of chairs and tables in the car park has expanded to alotmore chairs and tables in the car park. Reece has liberated more furniture from the pub’s storage and we’ve created a makeshift outdoor seating area. On busy days like today, every space is occupied, and there’s a cheerful buzz of conversation that makes my heart feel like it’s belting out showtunes.
‘Dolly dear!’ Lettie calls over from her usual spot near the river’s edge. ‘Could we have another plate of those lovely petticoat tails?’
‘Coming right up,’ I call while a man comes to collect tea refills for his entire family who are occupying another one of the tables.
I arrange the shortbread triangles on a plate and take them across. Lettie, Madge and Wilma have become regular customers, arriving most afternoons for ‘quality control meetings’. Today they’re conducting an extensive evaluation of my shortbread.
‘Perfectly crumbly.’ Madge takes another one and announces her verdict loudly enough for everyone to hear. ‘Just the right amount of butter and not too sweet.’
‘So many commercial biscuits are far too sweet these days,’ Wilma grouches, but she takes another one too. Lettie has taken it upon herself to source only the best local ingredients for me in the shop, and they must be good choices if the resulting bakes meet even Wilma’s approval.
The van is free of customers for a moment, so I stop to chat, because I don’t want them to pull me up on poor customer service, and because I genuinely enjoy talking to them and seeing the friendship they share.
‘You look run off your feet.’ Lettie takes the plate out of my hands. ‘You should get that nice young builder to help out more often.’
They do, of course, know that Reece has been helping me out far too often, and this is just another way of wheedling for info about the pub. ‘Busiest day yet,’ I answer. ‘I need to start making double the amount every morning before the summer holidays arrive next week and bring even more tourists along with them.’
‘That’s wonderful, lass!’ Madge reaches over and pats my hand. ‘It’s marvellous to see so many people here again. A little community hub. People chatting, laughing, sharing tables. It’s exactly what the Kingfisher Arms used to be like on our quiz nights.’
‘Except with wine,’ Wilma adds. Clearly her approval isn’t long-lasting. ‘And less chance of getting wet if it decides to rain.’
It’s been a dry June and July so far and I’ve yet to find out how bad weather impacts on the number of walkers passing by, and I’m trying not to think about how sustainable this business will become in the winter months.
‘Those were such special evenings,’ Lettie continues wistfully. ‘The whole village all in one place, plus visitors from miles around. The atmosphere was electric. The friendly competition… The team spirit…’
