“Right.” Olivia’s mind whirled. She’d come to depend on this little group of five. She hated the thought of losing even one of her dear friends.
“Well, you’re not the only one who is thinking of a move,” Harriet said with a wry smile. “Richard and I put an offer on a house on the other side of the village, and it’s been accepted. All things being equal, we should be able to move out by March.”
“What…!”
“You did?”
“Where?”
Harriet waved away all their surprised questions with a smile. “On the rougher side, as it were…an old wreck, but it’s what we could afford, and the truth is, we’re squeezed in this little place.”
“I can’t believe it,” Ava cried. “Willoughby Close will be completely empty.” Alice had moved into Willoughby Manor last year, when she’d married Henry Trent, and Ava had moved into the caretaker’s cottage with Jace. Their cottages hadn’t been let yet, and now the other two would be vacated, as well. It was strange to think of the cheerful little courtyard with its cluster of four cottages completely unoccupied. Olivia didn’t like it.
“Everyone’s moving on in one way or another, aren’t they?” Alice said with a nostalgic sigh. “It makes me feel a little sad, somehow.”
It made Olivia feel sad, as well. Everyone was moving on in some way…but her. She sat back and sipped her wine as the conversation swirled around her, talk of jobs and houses, babies and children. All her friends were married; all of them had children save for Alice, who had a manor and a charity to run, and was likely to start a family in the near future. All of them, Olivia acknowledged with a funny little pang she wasn’t used to feeling, had lives that suddenly seemed far fuller and busier than her own.
She’d never minded it before, or at least, she acknowledged, she hadn’t let herself mind. She didn’t need a partner or family to feel fulfilled and connected to her community. She knew that, and yet at the moment she felt like an appendage rather than an integral part. It wasn’t the best feeling.
“Well, we’re not going anywhere,” Ava said as she settled back into the sofa. “Jace is happy at the manor…and I’m happy too.” Her smile was a tiny bit brittle, reminding Olivia that Ava wasn’t ready to have another baby and Jace seemed as if he was. No one’s life was perfect, including her own.
“What about you, Olivia?” Ellie asked. “Anything new and exciting happening at Tea on the Lea?”
For some ridiculous reason Olivia thought of Simon Blacklock. He’d come in for his cupcake yesterday at a quarter to five, just when she’d started to worry that he wouldn’t. Her heart had done that silly tumble in her chest and she’d acted as if she hadn’t been saving a pistachio and strawberry cupcake just for him, having kept one back after selling the other eleven. The cupcake promotion was really working; people seemed interested in the loyalty cards, and the window display as well as word of mouth drew them in.
When Simon had bought his cupcake, they’d barely spoken, which had disappointed her more than it should have; he’d been his usual charming self, but clearly distracted and in a rush, and considering how she’d been looking forward to seeing him all day—again, ridiculous—the two-minute exchange had ended up making her feel rather flat.
“Nothing, really,” she said now, and Harriet, ever shrewd, arched an eyebrow.
“It took you long enough to reply. What were you thinking about telling us?”
Olivia’s cheeks started to warm. “Nnn…nothing,” she stammered, and Harriet folded her arms and stared her down.
“Nothing? You’re blushing.”
“And stammering,” Ellie contributed helpfully, looking interested. “What’s going on, Olivia?”
Perhaps it was because all her friends seemed to have busier lives, or maybe it was just the glass of wine she’d bolted down without much dinner beforehand, but for some contrary reason Olivia felt reckless, something she usually didn’t feel. She’d always lived her life in a steady, measured way, but in that moment she wanted to share something exciting, to have something exciting to share.
“Oh, it really is nothing,” she said with a little laugh, or at least an attempt at one. “A bloke has come into the shop every day since I started my cupcake promotion.” Everyone stared at her, waiting for more, and suddenly Olivia didn’t feel reckless anymore, just a bit pathetic. “That’s it,” she finished a little flatly, and then drained the last of her wine.
“That can’t be it,” Ava said after a moment. “Or you wouldn’t have mentioned it. What is this bloke like?”
Olivia shrugged, hating having everyone’s eyes on her. She was never the centre of attention; all her life she’d played a supporting role, and she’d liked that…until now, it seemed. Honorary auntie, BFF with the wine and the tissues after someone else’s breakup, concerned colleague, friendly baker, kindly neighbour. She was happy in those roles; she felt comfortable in them. They were safe. Now the spotlight had swung on her and she squirmed. A lot.
“Does he buy a cupcake?” Ellie asked with a kindly smile, clearly trying to help her out. Olivia smiled back, a bit tightly. Her friends were lovely, and they were trying so hard, but when everyone else was talking about husbands and houses and babies, a stranger buying a cupcake in her shop just felt…sad. It wasn’t exciting. It wasn’t news.
“Yes, he does,” she finally said on a sigh.
“The important question is, is he fit?” Ava asked, her eyes narrowing in assessment. “He must be, or you wouldn’t have mentioned him.”
Fit? Olivia doubted Ava would think Simon Blacklock was fit. She was married to Jace, who oozed sex appeal and magnetic charisma from every pore. As for Simon…Olivia pictured his rangy figure, his slightly too-long hair, his colourful scarf, his glinting grey-green
