‘You’re looking good,’ he says, sweeping his eyes over me. ‘Being an entrepreneur suits you.’
‘Thanks. But I’m not officially an entrepreneur until next week when we open.’
He concedes this with a smile. ‘I suppose not. June 1st, isn’t it?’
‘That’s right.’ I feel flattered he’s made a point of finding out.
‘I’ll be there. And I’m hoping for double chocolate cookies.’ His eyes twinkle at me. ‘You see, I haven’t forgotten.’
I laugh. ‘Wow. I didn’t realise my baking was that memorable!’
‘The cookies were. You used to bake them every Saturday especially for me.’
We smile at each other. And just for a moment, looking into those lovely, kind eyes the colour of melting chocolate, it’s as if the intervening fourteen years never happened and we’re right back to the days of Jason and me. Wrapped up in each other. Inhabiting our own private little bubble of happiness.
The eye contact lasts a second longer than it should.
Jason coughs and looks down at his feet, and I launch into my party piece: ‘So if you could taste everything in sight and give each cake a mark out of ten, that would be fab. Just a bit of fun, really.’
He grins and heads for the kitchen. ‘My idea of heaven. And not a “clean diet” sheet in sight.’
With a heavy heart, I join them in the kitchen.
Lucy already has Jason welded to her side and is holding forth on the subject of her ‘boot camp’ training session the following day. She’ll have to do without me, I’m afraid. I’ve got far too much to do to get the café up and running.
‘I’m sure I can count on you all to attend my boot camp,’ Lucy is saying. ‘The 10k is in such a good cause and we have to set an example to the rest of the village. Get as many people joining in as possible.’
I happen to catch Jason’s eye when she mentions boot camp, and he grimaces ever so slightly at the thought. I suppress a smile and look down at my feet.
‘Wouldn’t you agree, Twilight?’ barks Lucy, and I glance up to find everyone looking at me. Why is she putting me on the spot? Or is that a stupid question?
I glance at Paloma but she’s just grinning away at the thought of me being forced to do some exercise.
‘Er, yes. Absolutely,’ I bluster. ‘It’s a great cause. Children’s charities.’
Lucy nods approvingly. ‘So I can definitely count on you to be there tomorrow, then?’
Everyone is looking expectantly at me. So I nod. ‘Yes, I’ll be there.’
Lucy’s small smile sends a shiver through me. Oh, God. What’s she got planned? If it’s as horrendous as the ‘Big Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ nonsense, I’ll be going straight home.
Soon after this, everyone starts making a move to leave, and I can’t help wondering if it’s ‘the Lucy effect’. She always seems to hijack conversations, bringing all the attention back to herself. I don’t know how Jason stands it. I glance over at him, just as he tenderly tucks a lock of Lucy’s hair behind her ear. Lucy flaps at his hand in irritation and he just grins.
As it turns out, Lucy and Olivia decide they’d like to see the treehouse, so after waving the rest of the girls off, I’m obliged to take them up there, which actually really grates on me. It was my own private little hideaway for so long. It still is, if I’m being honest. I don’t want Lucy Slater polluting it!
Paloma, bless her, tries to dissuade them, saying, ‘The ladder sways a bit. So I’d hang on quite tightly if I were you, unless you want to come a cropper.’
Lucy hesitates, her foot on the bottom rung, but Jason, behind her, grabs her bottom and pushes her up. She squeals and pretends to be cross, but you can tell she quite likes it, and she makes it to the top no trouble at all.
‘Oh, I never tried the lemon drizzle cake,’ calls Olivia through the treehouse window, just as I’m about to follow them up.
‘I’ll get fresh supplies!’ I say, heading back into the house.
I grab a plastic box and start filling it with an assortment of little cake squares, glancing out of the window towards the treehouse, wondering what they’re talking about.
‘So, a café owner, eh?’
I spin round. Lucy is standing right behind me, which is a bit spooky because I never heard her come in. She must have followed me down the ladder.
‘Yes.’ I force a laugh. ‘Who’d have believed it.’
‘Setting up a business isn’t easy. You’re very brave to do it.’
‘Very brave or very stupid.’
She shrugs. ‘You have to take a risk. I took a risk with my on-line clothing business and luckily, it’s working out.’
I nod. ‘Good for you.’ I’d heard on the grapevine that in five years of business, Lucy has sold three tunic tops made out of black PVC and one skirt held together with giant safety pins. But at least she’s doing what she loves. And it’s not as if she and Jason need the money, by all accounts.
I busy myself cutting up a Madeira cake into squares. ‘If your heart is in it, you should just go for it.’
‘And is your heart in selling coffee and cakes?’
‘Yes. It is, actually.’ I glance over my shoulder at her. Is she belittling my ambition? Or just being curious? ‘It’s a bit of a dream come true, to be honest. And it’s important to Dad. He’s over the moon I’m making use of his shop.’
She nods thoughtfully then sits down on a stool and just watches me. Her silence makes me clumsy and the cake slice slips out of my hand.
As I dive down to rescue it, Lucy says, ‘I do hope your café is a success.’
My eyes dart up to her face. It’s a simple enough statement. But something in her tone makes me hear warning bells – like years ago, at first school, when she’d taunt me, saying softly, ‘You like that pencil case, don’t
