‘I am not,’ Alf interjected, putting his paper down. ‘Nina, we’ve known you for years now, ever since you became one of us. And you know we don’t take kindly to strangers so easily, so you can understand how much we love you.’
I nodded, and suddenly some stupid tears were sliding down my face again. ‘I love you too, Alf. I love you all…’
‘And we love you, pet,’ Deirdre – who only needed to see the shadow of a tear to get emotional – blubbered, coming around the counter again to embrace me. ‘You are the daughter I never had…!’
‘Oh, dearie me,’ sighed Carol, who, being hard of hearing, had missed most of the words spoken, but there was no mistaking the tears and Alf’s icy manner towards Luke.
‘Alf!’ Bev hissed. ‘When are you going to learn your manners once and for all?’
He shrugged. ‘What? I only said the truth! What did I tell you the moment I saw his face in the papers? I didn’t like him, I said. And I still don’t!’
‘You’re talking nonsense as usual. And lower your voice,’ Bev scolded as Deirdre dried her eyes. ‘And where is your Cornish sense of hospitality?’
‘Ain’t got none for the likes of ’im!’ Alf declared, nodding down the aisle to where Luke, reading milk labels, pretended not to hear. If anything, he was a gentleman.
‘Shut your mouth,’ Bev said. ‘Shame on you, at your age. You are going to be nice to him from now on, do you understand?’
‘Why should I be nice to that fancy gent?’
‘Because he’s a friend of Nina’s. And because if you don’t, you’ll be cooking your own meals and doing your own laundry. Right, girls?’
Bev squeezed my hand and nodded firmly. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Tough crowd.’ Luke whistled as we got back into his car.
I turned in my seat. ‘Luke, I’m absolutely mortified. I just don’t know what’s got into him. He’s normally a sweetheart, you know? It must be the Alzheimer’s. I’m so sorry.’
Luke patted my hand. ‘It’s okay. He’s just protecting his baby.’
I grinned. ‘I am, in a way.’ It felt so great to be loved.
The next morning, Luke, who had unwittingly stumbled upon Nellie’s tea room, arrived with a selection of her best croissants as I was pouring the coffee. Chloe and Ben had come down to retrieve Jessica and take her upstairs.
As Luke leaned against the counter sipping his coffee, the fridge barked and he leapt to attention, swinging his round eyes from the fridge to me. ‘What the—I say what the Jesse James was that?’ he said in a John Wayne accent.
I laughed and shrugged. ‘It does that all the time. Jack says it’s just because it’s old.’ The subtext being that there was no money for a new refrigerator, but it was too late to take it back. However, my finances weren’t as interesting to him as my social life.
‘Who’s Jack?’
‘Ben told you. Our neighbour.’
He looked doubtful. ‘You mean the farmer down the road? Is he qualified?’
‘Well, he was actually an engineer in London. But when he inherited Crooked Hill Farm from his gran, he decided to call it quits and enjoy the good life. He’s very happy here.’
‘He’s not the vet in your book, is he?’
‘No, of course not,’ I answered. ‘It’s a work of fiction. Besides, I wrote those before I moved here.’
Not that he believed me. ‘Hmm. Is this Jack guy as good-looking as the one in the book?’
I shrugged. ‘Handsome? Women seem to think so.’
‘And you?’
‘Me? I suppose he’s rather easy on the eye.’
‘Hm, now I’m jealous. Is he as handsome as me?’
There we go. It was only a matter of time until Luke hammed out on me. Blimey, these Hollywood stars had egos the size of cathedrals.
‘He’s… a different type,’ I considered. ‘You’re more of a yacht-y, French Riviera type, while he’s more of a…’ How to define Jack? ‘Woodsy type.’
‘I was actually joking when I asked, Nina. God, you’re so gullible.’
‘Oh. Sorry.’ I never knew when he was serious. Which was good for his reputation as an actor, but made communication a little iffy at times. I had yet to become accustomed to his sense of humour.
‘Don’t be. It’s what makes you so adorable.’
At that, my face went hot.
‘How long have you known him?’ he asked.
I took a sip of my coffee. ‘Ever since we moved in three years ago.’
‘You’ve been here for three years?’ he asked, looking around himself, and I bristled.
I knew he didn’t intend anything by it, but the fact was that in all this time we hadn’t managed to complete the renovations. But I had painted the kids’ rooms and re-carpeted before Phil took what we’d had left.
The rest was… drab. No matter how many beautiful beach-themed cushions and rugs I scattered around the house, it still looked helpless. The original floorboards were one of the house’s strong points, but it was still a dump, especially compared to the Nirvana that was Luke’s house.
‘Hm,’ he said, pulling a croissant apart. ‘Speaking of characters, I was thinking about your female lead.’
‘Stella?’
‘Yeah. I think the best scenes are when we see her vulnerability. We should show more of her in her weaker moments.’
‘You mean when she breaks down and cries while vacuuming under the bed?’
‘Yeah. And also, I’d show how she could’ve been more understanding towards Bill.’
I felt my teeth grinding. Here we go again. ‘Oh?’
‘Yeah. I also want some scenes to depict his struggle. Make him seem much less of a jerk. You know, show the temptation to not drink, the pain he goes through…’
This was not good. If I showed Bill as a nice guy, the viewer would want Stella to give him another chance. I didn’t want to give him another chance. He’d had more than enough, and had wasted every single one of them.
‘Not a good idea, Luke…’
‘Oh come on. Have a heart, Stella.’
‘I do have a heart. I don’t want— What did you just call me?’
Luke grinned. An open-mouthed, I’ve
