“It’s okay, Olivia.” Simon’s voice was gentle. “It’s fine.”
She drew in a shuddery breath. “It’s just…it’s always been my mum and me,” she said, trying to explain why this was affecting her so deeply. “We’ve been a team since…well, since forever.” Another shuddery breath; saying even this much was harder than she’d thought. “I can’t imagine it any way else.” And yet she knew in her heart, in her very bones, that it had already changed without her realising it. Already her mum wasn’t the same. They weren’t the same. “That’s why it’s so hard,” she finished. “But thank you for taking us to the hospital, and waiting while I settled my mum. I really appreciate it.”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me.” Simon smiled wryly, a touch of sadness lingering in his eyes. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
No, she wasn’t okay, but she couldn’t ask any more of Simon now. “I’ll be okay,” she said. “I’ll ring the doctor tomorrow.”
He hesitated, looking uncertain. “Of course, you don’t have to come out for a drink tomorrow night, considering…”
She’d completely forgotten about their would-be date. She felt as if they were in a whole other place now after this evening. “No, I’d like to go. It will be nice to do something different.” She tried to smile. “If you’re still up for it, that is.”
“I am.”
“Okay, then. The Three Pennies at seven?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
They gazed at each other for a moment, the silence that stretched between them feeling both comfortable and strange, as if they were communicating something without words.
“I’d better head off, then,” Simon said, and turned towards the door. “See you tomorrow, Olivia.”
“Yes, see you tomorrow.” She waited until he’d disappeared down the street, into the darkness, before she locked the door and turned off the lights, heading upstairs to her flat with Dr Jekyll hard on her heels, eager for his dinner.
Chapter Seven
The next morning Olivia rang the local GP, muttering a prayer of thanks under her breath when a last-minute cancellation meant her mother could be seen later that morning. She rang Harriet next, asking her to cover the shop for an hour or two, something she’d done on occasion in the past, when it couldn’t be avoided.
Olivia had never liked asking favours from people; perhaps it stemmed from her childhood, when she and her mum had been their own secure, and somewhat isolated, unit. Mum had always been proud not to need anyone else, even though she’d loved providing baking and a listening ear to whoever came her way. It was a one-sided offer, to be the listener and sympathiser rather than the listened to, the one who needed a bit of compassion, and Olivia had inherited that tendency, the drive for self-sufficiency and security. Better to be needed than to need.
Thankfully Harriet had been quick to agree, and she strolled into the shop at quarter to eleven, looking worried.
“Is everything okay, Olivia? What’s up with your mum?”
“Just a burn that needs checking.” Olivia didn’t want to go into the cognitive testing bit just yet; it felt like a betrayal of her mother, and it wasn’t really her news to share. “Thanks for helping out.”
“Of course, I’m delighted to. I would more often if you wanted me to.”
“I know.” Olivia gave her a rather guilty smile, knowing it was her emotional issue that kept her from leaning on her friends more. Harriet glanced around the shop.
“This place really does look fab, so Christmassy. I love the mistletoe.” She glanced at the cake stand in the front window. “What’s the cupcake for today, then?”
“Raspberry cheesecake.” Which might have been a bit more miss than hit, but Olivia was trying for a wide variety of flavours.
“It looks delicious. Are those crystallised raspberries on top?”
“Yes, and a bit of red glitter to make it that much more festive.”
“You do such an amazing job.” Harriet looked at her seriously. “You deserve massive success, Olivia.”
“Thanks.” Whether she would get it or not was another matter, but for once Olivia didn’t have financial worries in the back of her mind. The cupcakes had been picking up, and staying open for the tree-lighting ceremony had been a definite plus. She’d had more inquiries about the evening do she was planning next week, as well. In any case, it was her mother she was worried about today.
“And what about Cupcake Man?” Harriet asked. “Has he come in again?”
Olivia rolled her eyes, simply because the question was so lovably predictable. Ellie had texted her about “Cupcake Man” that morning, and Ava had asked her about him when she’d picked up a coffee and muffin before jetting off to work. Olivia hadn’t told either of them about her drink with Simon, mainly because she didn’t want to make it into a bigger deal than it actually was. Now, under Harriet’s beady eye, she found she couldn’t quite dissemble.
“Actually, he has a name, and we’re going out for a drink tonight.”
“Oh, wow!” Harriet clapped her hands, genuinely delighted. “So what is his name, out of interest?”
Olivia hesitated for a second, uncertain whether to unleash her friends’ inquisitiveness on her fledgling love life. “Simon Blacklock.”
“Simon…” A funny look came over Harriet’s face, making Olivia’s fragile hopes start to waver.
“Why are you looking like that?”
“Like what?” Harriet blustered, and Olivia pursed her lips.
“Like you’ve just tasted something sour. What is it? Do you know him?”
“I don’t know him exactly…” Harriet began, and Olivia’s stomach roiled unpleasantly. This was sounding worse and worse.
“So what do you know?”
“It’s just hearsay and rumours, really,” Harriet said hurriedly, which only made Olivia feel even more worried. She’d known there had been something Simon had been holding back. Of course it was all too good to be true.
“Rumours,” she repeated flatly. “From where?”
“School. He’s
