Page 31 of A Recipe for Romance in Brambleton

‘Well,’ Lauren said gently, ‘for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a great job.’ She moved a little closer to him, and, taking a risk, put a hand on his back. ‘The boys are healthy, happy, and it sounds like they had a brilliant party. I overheard one of the mums talking about it when I popped into Saints’ Farm Store for some extra milk earlier this evening, and she said her son, Joe, is it, really enjoyed himself. Although she was a little concerned that he’d eaten his body weight in Haribo!’

Marc turned his head towards her and gave her the ghost of a smile. ‘That’s good to know. I wasn’t quite sure how much of the stuff to buy, and I might have over-egged it a bit.’

‘Maybe you should take the win,’ she added. She realised her hand was still on his back, and, blushing slightly, she broke contact.

‘Maybe.’ Marc’s eyes were still meeting hers, and Lauren felt her blush growing stronger. She was glad it was so dark. ‘And I was going to pop into the café and let you know that the cakes were a roaring success, no pun intended! Luca loved Captain Barnacles, and Liam tried to build his cake in the Minecraft app this evening, when his friends had left. Thank you so much for all of your hard work.’

‘You’re welcome.’ Lauren’s smile covered her blushes, or so she hoped. ‘It was good for me to do something out of my comfort zone.’

They both sat back against the bench and looked out over the calm, dark expanse of Willowmere Lake. ‘This is going to sound weird,’ Marc said quietly, ‘but I wonder if it’s possible to be happy and sad for the same reason? I miss Tessa and I always will, but today, all the way through the party, I also felt happy that the boys and I had had such a great time together. Does that sound horrible? Does it make me a bad person for feeling proud that we did it by ourselves?’

Lauren shook her head. ‘Not at all.’ She turned to look at him. ‘When my mum had her accident, for years afterwards I felt sad to have lost the version of her that I’d known. She was so different from the person I loved. She had to relearn so much, and I was the one who had to teach her, when the carers and the physios left for the day. For a long time, I couldn’t reconcile the person she is now with the person she had been, and I was angry – with her, at the situation, at our life – until I realised something. That anger, and that dwelling on what might’ve been, wasn’t hurting anyone but me. I had to let go of all those feelings, and relearn, just like Mum had, how to be happy and grateful for the things we still had. Maybe that’s what you and the boys need to hold on to.’

‘Losing Tessa was so unbelievably hard,’ Marc said. ‘And it’s so easy to say let it go, but maybe you’ve got a point.’

‘I’m not saying let her go,’ Lauren added quickly. ‘It’s more like, celebrate what you all still have. Love the boys and the parts of Tessa that are in them, and enjoy that as a separate thing from your sadness about losing her. One doesn’t cancel out the other.’

‘Very wise.’ Marc shuffled on the bench, and with a jolt Lauren realised their knees were almost touching. She stayed still, not wanting to break the moment. They turned towards each other, and Marc’s eyes locked on hers. She could see the length of his long, dark eyelashes and the moonlight reflected in his irises.

‘Thank you,’ Marc murmured. ‘I really wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, tonight, but you’ve been lovely.’ He laughed nervously. ‘I mean, it’s been lovely.’

‘It has.’ Lauren smiled again. ‘I know you’ve got all kinds of people around you to help, but if you need another chat… well, you know where to find me.’

They gazed at each other for a few more seconds. Lauren’s heart was racing, and, had the situation been different, she would have been imagining bridging that gap between them with a kiss. Marc seemed to be heading in the same direction, but, at that moment, a ping from his phone made them both move back.

‘Sorry,’ Marc said as he pulled it out of his pocket. ‘I have an Alexa set up in the boys’ room so I can hear them if they wake up. The range is pretty good, about a hundred yards, so I can just about get away with being out here. It’s far enough away to give me the illusion of a little space, but close enough that I can sprint back if they need me.’

‘Very sensible.’ Lauren smiled. ‘I’d better get back, too. Although the café’s closed on a Sunday, I’ve got a bit more baking to do ready for Christmas Eve. We ran out of everything today.’ She stood up. ‘Take care, Marc.’

‘You too.’ Marc stood as well, and there was a moment of confusion and some nervous laughter when they both tried to go the same way. Their bodies bumped a little in the dark, and Lauren’s heart jumped in her chest. She put out a hand and touched Marc’s arm as she moved past him. ‘See you soon, I hope.’

‘I hope so, too.’

As Lauren made her way back home, she mulled over the conversation. Marc was clearly still grieving, but the looks they’d exchanged at the end of the conversation felt like… something. Shaking her head, she tried to shake the feeling off, too.

28

Christmas Eve was Lauren’s last working day in the café, and she was determined to close early. She’d pulled out a couple of sponge cakes to defrost overnight, and now swiftly filled them with butter cream and strawberry jam, sprinkling them with icing sugar before she put them on the counter. It would be Victoria sponge or nothing today for her customers. She didn’t want to have to throw anything out when she closed.

She’d spoken to Myriam, who, while feeling a little tired, was doing well on the cruise. Gary had also spoken proudly about Myriam’s work on the boat.

The day passed swiftly, and before she knew it, she’d said goodbye to Sam, who was gloomy at the prospect of driving over to suburban Surrey to stay with his parents for the duration – ‘Honestly, Lauren, it’s a fucking cultural and social wilderness down there; all pristine waxed jackets, Range Rovers that’ve never seen a lick of mud and men who’ve married away the gay and are in a happy state of self-induced denial!’ – and was getting ready to close up. She smiled when she thought of Sam’s rather melodramatic explanation about his Christmas plans – bless him, maybe he’d find a fella who wasn’t afraid to share a kiss under the mistletoe with him.

Letting herself into the house a little later, she was looking forward to going to the pub to meet Cathy, and, hopefully, to see Marc, too. Who knew, though, he might not even be there. After all, unless he brought the boys, he’d need a babysitter. At least, if she was sitting with Cathy, it wouldn’t seem as though she was Billy no-mates.

Taking a quick shower and selecting her favourite sweater, a baby pink cashmere V-neck that she wore when she wanted to feel more confident, she slipped into a pair of skinny jeans and boots and headed out to the pub as the hands on the clock in the kitchen edged up to seven. That way, she’d be in situ and able to spot Marc if he could manage to come.

Christmas Eve in the pub was a tradition that most of the residents of Lower Brambleton adhered to, and she had to admit, she enjoyed it. At Christmas, the landlord, Paddy, and his wife, Jen, went all out to create a cosy, vintage feel to the celebration. In one corner of the bar stood a stout, fragrant Norwegian spruce tree, covered in gold and silver ornaments with, of course, a diamanté-bedecked star on top, and all through the bar area and the restaurant were strewn bunches of holly, colourful paper chains and the odd sprig of mistletoe. Jen, the real power behind the Star and Telescope’s throne, loved Christmas, and so the Spotify festive playlists usually started early in November, but tonight she’d gone one better and invited Bella to perform an acoustic set of Christmas covers in the other corner of the bar. Bella was joined by her old friend and sometime collaborator, Jason Flyte.

Lauren was somewhat in awe of Bella, who’d managed to keep her former life as a pop star under wraps when she’d moved to Lower Brambleton a few years back. Bella always seemed so sure of herself, so confident, and never more so than when she was behind a microphone performing. With her red hair clashing gloriously with the bright red dress, looking happily out at the pub audience, Bella could hold a crowd in the palm of her hand, and did a good job of covering Mariah Carey’s most festive hit.

Over to one side of the bar sat Noah, Bella’s partner, and their friends, Nick and Thea Saint, who’d finally tied the knot the previous summer. Nick’s sister, Annabelle, and her husband, Jamie, were sitting around the same table and duly led the thunderous applause when Bella had finished her version of ‘All I Want for Christmas’.

Lauren couldn’t help thinking about what she wanted, this festive season. With Myriam away, she had resigned herself to Christmas Day alone, and to be honest, she wasn’t too fussed about that. Working right up until Christmas Eve had left her social battery feeling drained, and she was relieved to think that, after she’d left the pub tonight, she wouldn’t be seeing anyone until she reopened the café. The prospect of a couple of days of solitude didn’t worry her, after her previous concerns when her mother had left for the cruise. She’d got used to being alone fairly quickly; in fact, she was almost enjoying it.

‘Sorry I’m late.’ Cathy, rushing to her table, was all apologies. ‘Rob got back later than he thought from his last delivery.’

‘No worries.’ Lauren smiled at her friend as she hurriedly shrugged off her coat and scarf and settled in the other chair. ‘I was about to get another drink in. What would you like?’