“She knows quite a bit,” Simon remarked. “What else did she say about me?” Olivia hesitated, feeling both guilty and trapped, and he shrugged. “It’s okay. I figure there’s something. At the start of the evening you were looking a little wary.”
“Sorry.” Olivia wished now more than ever that Harriet hadn’t said anything to her. “She didn’t say anything more, actually. Just that…” How to put it? “You’re not a serial killer.”
Simon let out a huff of laughter. “That must have been a great relief to you.”
“Well, I wish she hadn’t said anything. I’d rather learn about you from you.”
“So if I’m not a serial killer, what did she think I am?”
“She didn’t say,” Olivia said wretchedly. She could tell, despite Simon’s easy manner, that he was hurt, and she hated that. “Just that there had been rumours…of something.” As soon as she said the words, she regretted them. They sounded awful.
“Ah.” His gaze had turned distant, and Olivia waited, wondering if he was going to explain. If she wanted him to. “Well, like you said, you should learn about me from me.”
“Yes…”
“And hopefully you’ve liked what you’ve learned so far.”
“Yes, I have. I really have.” He nodded slowly, and she realised he wasn’t going to tell her anything more, and she didn’t know whether to feel disappointed or relieved. Whatever it was, it wasn’t first date material, and she decided she was okay with that. No one wanted to air all their dirty laundry and deep secrets right away. It wouldn’t be fair on either of them if he did. She felt better somehow, even though she knew she still didn’t know anything—or at least not much.
“So.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling, his tone and expression deliberately light. “What do we talk about now?”
“Sorry that was all a bit of a buzzkill, wasn’t it?” She grimaced. “How do you like Wychwood-on-Lea?”
“I like it. It’s quiet, peaceful. And as it happens, your friend doesn’t have up-to-date information. I’m about to move out of my sister’s right after Christmas.”
“Oh? Where to?”
“A converted stables cottage in the grounds of the local manor.”
“Willoughby Close?” Olivia answered in surprised delight. “You must be moving into number three or four.”
“Yes, that’s right, number four.” He cocked his head. “You know it?”
“Yes, my good friends live there. In numbers one and two, although they’re both moving on soon.”
“So the place will be empty save for me?”
“Yes, I suppose at first…but the other cottages are sure to be let soon.”
“Something to look forward to, then.”
“Yes, if you like neighbours.”
“My neighbours in London kept to themselves. It’s one thing I like about living in a village. People care.”
“And they gossip.”
“So I’ve noticed.” He kept his voice light and Olivia smiled, glad he could joke about it.
“Anyway, Willoughby Close is lovely. I’d live there myself if I didn’t have the flat.”
The pub, Olivia noticed, had started to empty out. It was getting late and she had an early start tomorrow, as usual…yet she felt reluctant for the evening to end. “I suppose I should get going,” she finally said. “Five a.m. wakeup to bake three cakes, scones and muffins, and of course, some cupcakes.”
“What flavour tomorrow?”
“Nutella. Today was raspberry cheesecake. You didn’t come for your cupcake.” She meant to sound teasing but a faintly accusing note entered her voice.
“I’m sorry, I was stuck at school sorting out some paperwork for music exams. And…” he gave a sheepish grin “…I knew I’d be seeing you later anyway.”
“Are you saying you’ve only been coming into the shop to see me?” Olivia dared to ask, her cheeks warming at the thought.
“Well, I must admit it’s not for the cupcakes.”
“What!” She pretended to look outraged.
“They’re delicious, I’m sure, but I haven’t eaten any.” He paused, hanging his head. “The truth is, I didn’t come into the shop for the cupcakes, or any of your other delectable treats. I came in to see you.”
“Oh…” She was flummoxed and pleased by this admission, and she didn’t know how to respond.
Simon cocked his head, his gaze thoughtful. “I saw you through the window and thought, she looks like someone I’d like to know.”
Olivia’s cheeks warmed as she stared at his honest, open face. “Oh,” she said again.
“Is that creepy?”
“No, no…it’s…it’s sweet.” It was rather wonderful. She laughed, willing her blush to fade, absurdly touched by his admission. “Thank you.”
“Shall I walk you back to the shop?”
“All right.”
Simon settled their bill, gallantly refusing Olivia’s offer to split it, and then they stepped out of the pub into the cold night, their breath creating frosty puffs of air.
The high street of Wychwood-on-Lea was spangled with fairy lights and empty of people as they walked slowly down the cobbled pavement, the stars twinkling high above, diamond pinpricks in a dark night sky.
As the blue-painted door of Tea on the Lea came nearer, Olivia wondered what would happen. Should she invite him in? It was quite late now and she didn’t want him to get ideas, but neither did she want the evening to end.
With each step she wondered how to handle that ever-awkward moment, the goodbye on the first date. Kiss his cheek? Shake his hand? Do the cringe-worthy hug?
“Do you want your cupcake?” she blurted as they both came to a halt outside the shop. “I saved one for you.”
“Did you? That was kind. And most certainly worth five pounds.”
She laughed as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. “I raised the price to three pounds, actually. I think that’s reasonable.”
“Eminently so.”
She fumbled with the lights, her heart starting to thud in both expectation and nerves. “Well, you should take the cupcake anyway. I certainly don’t want to eat it. I’ve been eating far too many as it is.”
Simon stood by the door while Olivia fetched the cupcake, putting it in a box as she always did. Her fingers felt thick and clumsy, and she knew her face was scarlet. She was
