‘Er, Hannah?’ Charlie said. ‘I know you’re in turmoil right now, hon, but you might want to sit up. People are looking, and I’d like us to be able to keep coming here.’
Hannah did as she was told, only to be informed: ‘You’ve got a sachet of stevia stuck to your forehead.’
‘Ugh.’ Hannah peeled it away and set it aside. ‘Sorry. I’m stopping now, I promise. Who evenamI, being this dramatic? What’s wrong with me?’
‘It’s not like you,’ Charlie agreed, ‘but you’re under a lot of pressure at the minute. And love does funny things to the brain. For instance, it convinced me I could overlook Neil’s predilection for extremely pointy shoes, which I’m sure he wore to try and make his hobbit feet look bigger. Hideous things, they were. The feetandthe shoes.’ She shuddered.
‘Hold on.Love?’ Hannah scoffed. ‘That is not a word I’ve used at any point in this conversation.’
‘You don’t need to, Hannah. It’s so obvious you might as well be wearing an “I Heart Jude” t-shirt and singing a chorus of “You’re Still The One”.’
‘Well, that’s just brilliant,’ Hannah groaned. ‘Fuckinghell.’
‘Shit. Sorry,’ Charlie said, looking contrite. ‘Did you not .?.?. know?’
Hadshe known? Had she even considered it? Hannah realised that, since Jude reappeared, she had at no point allowed herself to ask the $64,000 question: did she still love him?
She’d been too afraid of the answer – or perhaps so certain of it, so sure it would never change, that there was no point in the enquiry. Outside of work, she hadn’t let herself think about love in a long time. She’d written it off as something she could no longer have if she wanted to be sane and functional, like a recovering alcoholic saying goodbye to their favourite single malt. She’d moved forward with no hope of finding it, and refused to look back in case it was dogging her steps. Now, she had to face the possibility that she’d been carrying it with her all along. Keeping it inside herself: a banked flame ready to burst back into life.
‘I can’t talk about this now,’ Hannah said, shoving the idea aside with as much force as she could muster. ‘I can’t eventhinkabout it. I have to concentrate on planning the wedding.’
‘OK,’ Charlie agreed, palms up. ‘I understand. But I’ll be here if you change your mind.’
‘Thanks,’ Hannah said. ‘I know.’
‘How’s the whole thing going? I’ve got two sample menus planned, by the way. We still on for the sixth of September for the tasting? My place – 8 p.m.?’
‘Yep – it’s in diaries. I’ll be there, and Ed and Joe are coming over from Manchester. As for the rest of it, trying to organise a wedding this big, at this short notice, withthismany starry guests, is exhausting,’ Hannah said. ‘We’re trying to keep the location secret so we don’t have random reporters and press photographers turning up on the day, but some of Joe’s influencer friends are such relentless oversharers they’ve already let it slip. I’ve had to intervene and ask several people to delete content where they’ve mentioned Renfrew Manor, and they were all fine about it – but no doubt the rumour’s out there now.’
‘That’s not ideal.’
‘No, but short of changing venues there’s not a lot I can do about it. The good news is, my Instagram following has doubled and booking enquiries for next year are through the roof. I’ve had a year-on-year increase of three hundred and fifty-nine per cent over the past thirty days.’
‘Bloody hell. That’s far more potential bookings than you could ever manage, surely?’
‘Definitely. But at least I’m not worried about whether I’ll stay afloat in a difficult economy.’ Hannah refused to think about what Jude, Joe and Ed had said at the Mexican place; didn’t want to admit, even to herself, that if she was ever going to hire an assistant or take on a junior partner, there’d be no time better than now. Unravelling her feelings about relying on someone else to help run her business – and about letting her youngest sister commit to working for Eventurous instead of in some high-powered role at a bank or tech firm – was a problem for another day.
‘I’m going to have to head off,’ Hannah said, glancing at her watch. ‘I’m meeting Ed this afternoon to discuss seating plans. Joe’s given him an exhaustive list of which BBC colleaguescannotbe seated next to commercial radio rivals, and which content creators have previously shagged and therefore need to be at different tables.’
‘Sounds .?.?. fun,’ Charlie said, grimacing slightly.
‘It’ll be interesting, at least.’
‘I’ll see you on Saturday, then. Ashfield again. I’m doing scallops, roast rack of lamb with greens and buttered potatoes, and lemon tart with white chocolate cream.’
‘Sounds incredible,’ Hannah said, standing up to hug Charlie goodbye. ‘I look forward to sampling the leftovers.’
Charlie snorted. ‘You know I make extra just for you,’ she said, squeezing Hannah tight.
‘I do,’ Hannah admitted. ‘Thank you. And not just for the food.’
19
Touch me.
Just two words. Seven letters. And they’d been torturing Jude for almost three weeks.
What would have happened between him and Hannah that night if his phone hadn’t rung? How far would things have gone? As he put the last few items he needed into his overnight bag and zipped it shut, he admitted to himself that no distance – no destination – would have felt far enough for him.
