Page 76 of The Sugar and Spice Bookshop Bakery

‘Did you think he looked pale?’ Elizabeth says.

Maddie frowns, clearly disappointed with their lack of curiosity. ‘To be honest, I didn’t. I’m not saying he’s faking it, but maybe … exaggerating.’

‘Richard would never do that,’ Elizabeth sounds certain.

‘You know, Mum,’ Louise says, ‘I’m not so sure.’

Twenty-Six

If Jack hadn’t told her the house number, Louise would still have found his place. There’s no mistaking the strong smell of garlic that wafts out from it.

In one hand, she grips the bottle of Valpolicella that she’s bought from the Lion. With the other, she raps gently on the front door.

She hasn’t seen him all day. He’d texted early that morning, saying he was taking his father to a hospital appointment after his funny turn in the book nooks. She’d texted back later, asking how Richard was. Jack hadn’t replied straight away. Not for several hours, in fact. Louise had wondered if he’d taken a turn for the worst, but then when his text finally arrived, she was relieved. Richard was fine, his message read, and he was on his way home, and would she like to come for dinner? She’d like that very much indeed.

The door opens now, revealing Jack in a blue-and-white-striped apron, brandishing a wooden spoon.

‘Luisa,’ he says, kissing her on both cheeks. ‘Welcome to my humble abode.’

The cottage, she knows, is a holiday rental. He’s negotiated a special rate so he can stay here whilst he decides what he’s doing. There’s no hallway. The front door leads directly into a small lounge, sparsely furnished with a sofa, an armchair and a coffee table. There’s a wood burner and a stack of logs in the fireplace.

She hands him the wine. He glances at the label. ‘Lovely, thank you.’

She slips off her coat, draping it on the newel post of the stairs, before following him into the kitchen. ‘If I hadn’t known your address, I could have just followed my nose.’

He looks puzzled.

‘The garlic,’ she says, smiling.

‘Oh, I see! I hope that’s not a complaint.’ He purses his lips playfully.

‘Not at all! I love garlic. Whatever you’re cooking, it smells divine.’

‘Wine?’ he asks. ‘I’ve one open already – to let it breathe. Or we can open this if you’d prefer?’ He indicates the bottle she brought.

‘What kind is the open one?’ she asks.

‘Red red,’ he says.

‘Well, in that case, I’ll go for the open one.’

He takes a bottle from the worktop, opens one of the cupboards and takes out two wine glasses, then fills them.

‘Cheers,’ he says.

‘Cheers.’

They clink glasses, then Jack turns his attention back to the stove, stirring the pan with his wooden spoon. Louise takes a sip of the wine, a full-bodied, fruity red. ‘Great news about your father, by the way.’

‘Yes, it’s such a relief. They’ve given him load of tablets – statins, beta blockers, aspirin.’

‘Practically a whole pharmacy.’

‘Indeed. But at least he’s going to be okay. I was scared that night – you know, when he had the heart attack.’

‘I know,’ she says, remembering her own father.

He places a hand on her shoulder. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to…’