Page 16 of A Recipe for Romance in Brambleton

As Bella filled him in on the evening’s activities, which had included a Marvel film, a big bowl of popcorn and a few rounds of a very messy game called Pie Face, which involved whipped cream, a timer and a catapult, Marc shook his head. ‘You’re definitely getting the reputation of most fun aunty. I’ll be such a drag, compared to you, tomorrow!’

‘We all had fun.’ Bella agreed. ‘They’re cute kids.’

Marc was glad that both the boys seemed to have been good. He was worried that Liam might kick off again, as he’d done a couple of times lately, but if Bella was being straight with him, that hadn’t happened. Marc took the win. He’d learned to be thankful for them.

‘Well, thank you again,’ he said as Noah and Bella left. ‘I had a great time, and it sounds like the boys did, too.’

‘Any time.’ Bella smiled. ‘It’s really nice to have you all so close.’

As Marc closed the door and watched the taillights of Noah’s Tesla heading down the driveway back to the road, he felt a pang. Noah had fallen hard for Bella, and Bella adored Noah. They were on the cusp of so many wonderful things; things that he and Tessa had discovered, before her life had been cut short. Two years on, it still caught him sometimes. But tonight, having spent time with his brother and Bella, it didn’t feel as raw as it normally did. Christmas was going to be tricky, but taking each day as it came was the way to make progress.

And there was one more major hurdle to get over before Christmas came, anyway. The twins’ birthday was in a week’s time. He’d managed to buy some presents, but there was one thing he’d not sorted out yet: the cake. Up until this point, they’d been quite happy sharing a cake, but he wondered if he needed to do something more individual this year. They were going to be six years old, and the pair of them had developed quite different interests over the year since their last birthday. Liam was into Minecraft, and Luca was much more into Octonauts. Marc had been vaguely browsing cake toppers on Amazon, but perhaps he should put a bit more effort in, since this was their first birthday in the new house? Writing that down on the notepad in the kitchen, which was the only way he ever remembered to do things these days, he put his mug in the dishwasher and, with a yawn that surprised him, decided it was time for bed. Maybe it was the wine, but as he closed the door and got ready to turn in, the feeling of contentment he’d had in the pub with Noah remained.

15

The rest of the week passed in a blur of customers, cake and coffee, and by the time Lauren closed up for the evening on Friday, she was exhausted. Myriam had come down to help her through the busy afternoon period, but Lauren had let her go back to her packing as soon as the café had quietened down again. Mindful of her mother’s exciting trip, which was starting tomorrow, she didn’t want to be responsible for wearing her out beforehand.

Lauren knew she was being overprotective, but it was a difficult button to stop pressing. Myriam was more than able to take care of herself these days, and since a FaceTime with Gary earlier in the week, Lauren knew Myriam would be in safe hands, even if something did go wrong. But she was a worrier by nature and found it increasingly difficult to get out of that mindset.

‘It’ll be good for both of us to have a little bit of time apart,’ Myriam kept saying. ‘You need to stop thinking about me all the time and start having some fun of your own.’

‘I know,’ Lauren had replied, dutifully, every time. But it was easier said than done. She was flat out at the café every day, and while the space was small, there was still plenty to do. By the time she shut up shop at the end of each afternoon, she was good for nothing else other than a quick dinner and a FilmFlix episode or three. Even then, she often woke up in the wee hours of the morning, stiff and cold on the sofa.

Determined not to do this on her and her mother’s last night together, Lauren had prepared Myriam’s favourite – moussaka – and bought a bottle of alcohol-free sparkling Chardonnay for them to have with it. Neither of them drank much, and Lauren knew that her mother probably wouldn’t want to drink the night before her voyage.

‘Mum? Are you home?’ she called as she pushed open the dividing door between the café and their maisonette.

There was no reply from upstairs. Locking up the door, Lauren flipped on the oven in the kitchen and then headed up the stairs towards her mother’s studio. She was about to mount the concertina stairs when she caught sight of her mother standing by her bed, an array of outfits and shoes scattered all over the duvet.

‘I thought you’d have everything packed away by now!’ Lauren called as she walked into Myriam’s room.

Myriam didn’t reply. A prickle of concern worried the back of Lauren’s neck as Myriam took a second to turn around.

‘Everything all right, Mum?’

Myriam nodded, but her expression was uncertain. ‘Yes, darling. A little nervous, I suppose.’

‘That’s only natural.’ Lauren gave her a hug.

‘I know…’ Myriam shrugged out of Lauren’s embrace ‘…but I don’t want to keep being defined by this bloody condition of mine!’ Myriam clenched her hands together; the hands that she fought so hard to regain the use of. ‘Is it wrong that I just want to be – oh, I don’t know – someone normal?’

Lauren couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Mum, the last thing anyone would ever call you is normal!’

Myriam joined in the laughter. ‘I suppose you’re right. Perhaps I should be glad of that.’

‘And, as you said, Gary is going to look out for you on this trip. Not because he thinks you’re not up to it but because he likes you, Mum. I mean, really likes you. Try to remember that. You always told me you weren’t going to be defined by that car accident and now is your chance to really prove that, not just to yourself but to all those people on the cruise who are going to benefit from your knowledge and your creativity. You’re going to smash it, Mum. I know you will.’

They shared another hug. ‘Whatever did I do to deserve a daughter like you?’

‘Something terrible, I bet,’ Lauren replied dryly.

‘And what about you? Did you manage to make any plans for when you have this place to yourself?’

Lauren shook her head. ‘I’ll have enough on my plate without factoring in any extra stuff!’

‘Oh, darling.’ Myriam’s face softened. ‘You work too hard. Don’t be afraid to shut the café for a day or two if you need to. You deserve some time off as well, you know, and you can always get Cathy in to do some extra shifts if you want a break.’

Cathy Brown, a friend of Lauren’s from school, was always keen to help out at the café. She currently did Wednesdays and Fridays, so that Lauren could focus on her baking, but was keen to step up. With December bringing a seasonal uplift in trade, Lauren knew she could probably get away with offering Cathy a few extra hours.