Page 45 of The Sugar and Spice Bookshop Bakery

Two plates are suddenly placed in front of them both.

‘One Yorkshire pudding with sausage and mash,’ Tom says, ‘and one steak, medium-rare, with fries. Can I get you anything else? Vinegar? Ketchup?’

‘Not for me, thanks.’ Jack shakes his head.

‘I’m fine, thank you,’ Louise says.

‘Enjoy,’ Tom says and scurries away.

‘What is that?’ Jack peers at Louise’s plate of food.

‘It’s a giant Yorkshire pudding filled with sausages, mash and gravy,’ she says, admiring the pile of food in front of her. ‘Yummy.’

‘If you say so.’

‘Don’t you like Yorkshires?’ She cuts a piece off one of the sausages and loads it onto her fork with some mash and gravy. ‘Because if you don’t, that’s even more of a deal-breaker than any big secret that you’re about to reveal.’

‘Of course I like Yorkshires,’ he says. ‘Small ones on the side of the plate with roast beef on a Sunday. They’re in my blood. Half my genes are from Yorkshire, remember? I’ve just never seen one served like that. It’s an awful lot of carbs.’

‘Exactly,’ Louise says. ‘So many delicious carbs.’

‘And doesn’t the bottom go soggy with the gravy?’

‘Deliciously soggy.’

‘Well, each to their own,’ he says.

‘Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.’ She cuts a small piece of Yorkshire pudding and another piece of sausage, and scoops it onto her fork with some gravy and a bit of mash. ‘Open wide.’

Jack stares at her and for second, she thinks he isn’t going to play, but then he opens his mouth, and she pops her fork in, as if she was feeding a child.

‘What d’you think?’ she says, before he’s barely had time to taste it.

He pulls a thoughtful face as he chews, then swallows and says, ‘Not bad. At least, not as bad as I thought it’d be.’

‘Well, I like it,’ she says. ‘In fact, I love it. You can’t beat a filled giant Yorkshire. I once had one with shepherd’s pie in! How’s your steak?’

‘Give me a chance! I haven’t tried it yet.’

They eat in companionable silence for a few minutes, Louise relishing every delicious mouthful of her filled Yorkshire pudding.

Jack puts down his knife and fork, tops up their wine glasses, and says, ‘So listen. The thing I have to tell you—’

‘Is everything all right with your meals?’

It’s Tom again, standing expectantly by their table.

‘Fine, thank you,’ Jack forces a smile.

‘Any more drinks?’

‘No, we’re good, thanks,’ Jack says. As Tom heads back to the bar, he adds, ‘That guy’s timing. Every flippin’ time!’

‘Yeah, I know.’ Louise puts down her knife and fork too. ‘Whatever it is, Jack, just tell me. I’m not sure I can take the suspense any longer.’

Jack picks up his wine glass and downs the whole lot, then refills it again.

‘Look, Louise. The thing is… I’m not an architect.’