“You never heard the concept of three square meals a day?”
Saskia’s mouth opened and shut a couple of times, mostly at the unusual phrasing, before she managed, “Of course I have.”
“You don’t believe in it?”
“I do! There’s just… room for flexibility, isn’t there? Once in a blue moon?”
“I suppose so.” But Kivi didn’t look convinced. In fact, she looked almost upset. “Well, the offer’s there. Just let me know inthe next fifteen minutes or so. There are scones aplenty. And I won’t charge you. If that’s what you’re worried about.”
“That’s very kind,” Saskia said, but she had already made up her mind to decline. Sure, skipping meals wasn’t a healthy habit, but it wasn’t like she was doing it all the time. Not like she used to.Kivi’s reaction was what was weirding her out more than anything.
They looked at each other a moment longer, then Kivi turned around and disappeared back in the guest house. Saskia had a feeling that there was something there that she was leaving unsaid. That perhaps shewouldhave said, had they been simply friends, not guest and hostess.
If that was the case, perhaps it was better they didn’t form any kind of friendship.
At least for now.
Chapter Twelve
Kivi
Fifteen years in customer-facing jobs had given Kivi an iron jaw when it came to biting her tongue, but that willpower was being tested today.
Yes, something about Saskia Saltmarshe was getting under her skin. Not only was Kivi now some sort of designated washerwoman – of her own accord! – but she was now straying into personal territory. She wasworryingabout the woman. The same way she’d worry about Eva, or Cass, or any of her other friends or relatives. She’d never felt anything more than mild concern for a guest before. But the pallor of Saskia’s face, and her evasiveness when it came to the topic of skipping meals, made Kivi wonder whether there was something more beneath the surface. Or perhaps she was just being paranoid.
While the oven heated up in preparation for a batch of muffins going in, she took the opportunity of a free five minutes to go into the garden. Toto was sitting in the window of her annex, and barked at her, but she didn’t have enough time to let him out. She’d do that once the muffins were sorted. Instead, she meandered down to the fence that separated her property from the cornfields behind it, and peered down into the ditch. Last spring, a deer and her fawn had fallen down there, and now shemade a point of checking every day. If she hadn’t been looking that afternoon, the pair would not have survived.
Satisfied that the ditch remained animal-free, she leaned on the fence and gazed out into the field. Everyone came down to Cornwall for the ocean, but they didn’t always talk about how beautiful the countryside was. This field was starting to turn golden, the stubble pushing up from the ground, perfect for cantering along on horseback, if she still rode. Right now, because she was facing East, she had her back to the sea, but this view was just fine. All that was missing was Toto at her feet. And a girlfriend to share it with, but that would come with time. If she ever got around to putting herself back out there.
Which wouldn’t be any time soon, if she did decide to take up Cass and Felicia on their offer of being their wedding planner. Her mum would have told her, in her usual blunt way, that she had to be ‘potty’ to even be entertaining the idea, but her gut feeling was stopping her from declining.
She couldn’t keep the two fiancées hanging forever. They’d already been engaged for the best part of a year, and together for more or less five, but they had professed themselves in no hurry. “We’d rather take our time and get exactly the day we want,” Cass had said. “And we think you would be the perfect person to do that. But there’s absolutely no pressure. Martine did explain that you haven’t done weddings in a very long time. So think it over and come back to us.”
Well, she was doing nothing if not thinking about it. Very little else had filled her mind over the last couple of weeks. And despite their reassurances, she knew it wasn’t fair on Cass and Felicia. Which was why she had given herself a deadline of the weekend to decide. Because her gut was sayingyes.Weddings had been her first love, after all, and the only thing she’d known how to do until the guest house fell into her hands. It would be awonderful blast from the past to return to her roots. But would it bring the memories back? The stress? Because she had enough of the latter to contend with as it was. What with running a business, taking care of a lively Golden Retriever, and trying to keep her longest-staying guest happy too.
Which was why she didn’t need to be worrying over nothing with Saskia Saltmarshe. So the woman had skipped lunch. So what? It didn’t mean she had an eating disorder, or was on the verge of a mental breakdown. The situation with Gareth and Drew had made her paranoid, that was all. They had been living proof that still waters ran deep, but that didn’t necessarily mean that anything was wrong with Saskia. She was just being paranoid, that was all. Paranoid and a worrier.
That settled, she returned to the kitchen to bake her muffins.
Chapter Thirteen
Saskia
The weekend brought with it warmer weather, much to Saskia’s dismay.
London, when she’d briefly lived there, had been hot. The Underground had been hell on Earth, with hundreds of heat-generating bodies crammed into what were essentially metal tubes, and the office buildings ofChica(while beautifully decorated and well-situated on the banks of the Thames) were poorly ventilated and had little effective air-conditioning. Later, Saskia’s rented flat up in Sheffield had had a couple of fans available for tenants to use, which had been useful given that she worked from home ninety percent of the time, but she ran hot anyway. She’d hoped that being by the coast would take the edge off, but that Saturday, clearly not. And she could see no fans in Sandy Dunes Guest House.
She stuck it out for the whole day, stationing herself in an air-conditioned café in Lygate shopping centre, but that wasn’t feasible long-term. And the weather gods didn’t seem to be thinking of getting any cooler, looking at the forecast. As she lay quietly roasting on her bed that evening, she knew she had tobite the bullet. There had to be a fan somewhere. So she donned her clothes once more, and went downstairs in search of Kivi.
Kivi wasn’t in the guest lounge or in the dining room, and peering into the kitchen came up with nothing. That left two options: either she was out and about, or she was in her annex. Nothing could be done if it was the former, but the latter was worth a shot. And so Saskia opened the patio doors, and stepped out into the garden.
Kivi’s annex wasn’t exactly hard to spot, so she started padding her way over there. But she stopped short when she saw Kivi herself. The woman was sitting on her front doorstep, a can of drink in one hand and her phone in the other, lost in thought and clearly unaware that Saskia was there. As Saskia watched, she took a deep drink from the can, swallowed, sighed and shifted position. There was something about her posture, her energy, that made Saskia stare.Stop staring. Go over.
“Um… Kivi?”
She timed it wrong. Kivi was just raising her can to her lips for another drink, and the shock of Saskia’s voice made her flinch. The liquid missed her mouth and poured down the front of her top, into the valley between her breasts, and she gasped loudly.
“Sorry, sorry!” Saskia closed the distance between them rapidly, and took the can out of her hand. “Are you okay?”
