Page 25 of The Sugar and Spice Bookshop Bakery

‘I love red red. My favourite.’

‘Great,’ she says, thinking, Did I just do that? Did I really just invite him back to the flat? To play Never Have I Ever?

Her mouth is dry with anticipation a few minutes later as they pull up outside the bakery. Her heart begins to thump. Jack puts the handbrake on. Turns the engine off. Unfastens his seat belt. And it feels to Louise as if it all happens in slow motion. She unclips her own seat belt, opens the car door and steps out onto distinctly wobbly legs. She has invited a handsome Italian into her flat for a drink. It’s been years since she’s done something like this. Not since Graham.

She moves towards the door of the flat, simultaneously rummaging in her handbag for the keys. Don’t let me have to tip the whole thing out to find them, she thinks. How embarrassing would that be.

She glances down into the bag, spots the keys, then hears a familiar voice say, ‘Louise!’

Maddie is standing by the door to the bakery. She leans in and kisses Louise’s cheek, then holds out her hand to Jack. ‘Hi, I’m Maddie. Louise’s stepdaughter. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.’

‘Jack,’ says Jack, taking her offered hand. ‘I didn’t know Louise had a stepdaughter.’

There’s an awkward silence, then he adds, ‘I’ll leave you two ladies to it. Louise, thank you for a wonderful afternoon. We can drink that bottle of red red another time.’

Louise wants to say, She’s my ex-stepdaughter. I’m no longer married to her father. I’m single. Single!

She wants to say, Don’t go. I can cook us all dinner.

She wants to say, Maddie, you are interrupting. You always did have the most terrible timing.

But Jack is already walking away.

Nine

‘You didn’t tell me you’d moved,’ Maddie says.

‘I’ve only just moved, and it was all a bit last-minute.’ Louise watches Jack’s back retreating down the street, then turns to Maddie. She hadn’t told anyone she’d moved – except Elizabeth obviously – but she probably should have told her stepdaughter.

She looks a little older than Louise remembers, but then it is nearly a year since they’ve seen each other; Louise can’t recall exactly when they last met for lunch. Aside from her colourful, Bohemian clothes and her mane of long, copper curls, she looks disarmingly like her father: tall and slim, with high cheekbones, a straight nose and a strong, almost defiant chin. Her skin is the same pale tone too – only Graham always looked pasty, whereas Louise would describe Maddie as having a perfect, porcelain complexion.

Maddie smiles and Louise notices that her smile is the same as her dad’s too; she’s never clocked that before. And then Maddie’s expression changes, to one of hesitancy.

‘Lou, is this okay? I should have rung first, shouldn’t I?’

‘Is what okay?’ Louise says, baffled for a moment, before she clocks the suitcases at Maddie’s feet and realises her stepdaughter – ex-stepdaughter – has come to stay.

And it isn’t okay. It would be, normally – Maddie is one of the few good things to come out of Louise’s marriage to Graham. But right now, it’s an added complication that Louise just doesn’t need. The girl had been barely fifteen when Louise married Graham, suspicious of this new woman in her father’s house. But they’d found their rhythm eventually – Louise trying to teach Maddie to bake, Maddie dragging Louise to vintage markets and art exhibitions and introducing her to Gilmore Girls. They’d formed an alliance, two people trying to bring warmth and love into a household that Graham seemed determined to keep cold.

Louise had left after three years of marriage, and her timing couldn’t have been worse. Maddie had been slap-bang in the middle of her A levels. Honestly. What had she been thinking? Yes, she was right to leave him, for the sake of her own mental health – Graham was a cold, distant man, and Louise was lonelier with him than she’d been when she was single – but having stuck him out for so long already, a few more weeks wouldn’t have made any difference. She should have looked out for Maddie more, not left the girl coping alone with her father in her exam year. Louise has always felt bad about that.

‘Are we just going to stand here on the doorstep or can I come in?’ Maddie says.

‘Of course.’ Louise reaches down and takes one of Maddie’s cases, then heads up the stairs with Maddie following close behind, carrying the other one.

‘Have a seat,’ Louise says, gesturing to the sofa. ‘I’ll pop the kettle on.’

As she waits for it to boil, she wonders why Maddie is here and how long she’s intending to stay. They’ve kept in touch over the years, mainly by WhatsApp; Maddie’s always shared photos of her life and what she’s up to. She’d message to ask if Louise had watched the latest episode of The Traitors and what did she think of this person or that person. She’d send podcast recommendations and ask for book recommendations in return. There’d been occasional phone calls too, and they’d met for lunch when their busy schedules allowed. But Maddie had never been the type to show up unexpectedly like this, and Louise guesses that something is wrong. A row with her father perhaps?

As she hands over a mug of tea, Maddie looks up at her and says, ‘I hope it’s okay for me to come here?’

‘Of course. Mi casa es su casa.’ My home is your home. Why on earth has she come out with such a cliché, in Spanish, especially when she doesn’t really feel like that? At least, not at this moment in time. ‘But how did you find me?’

‘You weren’t answering your mobile,’ Maddie says. ‘And I tried the flat and got no answer there either. Then I tried you at work and they said you weren’t there – they were a bit cryptic actually. So, I rang Elizabeth, and she said you were here. She said you’d been a bit down recently, so I thought I’d cheer you up with a surprise visit.’

‘Oh, okay.’

Honestly, her mother had no business telling people that Louise was down.