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I scoff. “Do I look like I’ve made bread? In fact, you don’t look like you make bread.”
“I always make my own bread,” she says, looking a little insulted. “You don’t know anything about me, Grizz. I might actually surprise you.” I rub my hands over my tired face. That’s what I’m afraid of. “As you can see, I’m safely here at home, where you want me to be, so you can go about your life.”
I snigger. “That’s exactly what you want, for me to think you’re behaving so I’ll leave you alone.”
She puts the dough into a tin and shoves it in the oven. “Haven’t you got plans tonight?”
I narrow my eyes, wondering if Lexi mentioned my date to Luna. It doesn’t matter—Luna knows the score.
“Nope. I’m free as a bird.”
“Well, I’m not, so go and make yourself busy.” I watch her take a different tin from the oven as the smell of freshly baked bread hits me. My stomach growls loudly and she laughs. “Have you eaten?” I shake my head. “Sit down.”
I slide into the seat as she cuts a chunk of bread from the loaf, then she adds butter and hands it to me. I inhale the yeasty, buttery goodness and take a large bite, closing my eyes as my taste buds light up. “Jesus,” I mutter around a mouthful, “that’s amazing.”
“I like to experiment,” she says, smiling shyly. “It’s got a hint of red chilli.” She slides a pot of butter my way. “And this is homemade garlic butter. Dip it,” she urges, nodding at me excitedly. I dip the warm bread and take another bite. It’s exceptional, and she smiles proudly at my groans of pleasure.
“You could sell this,” I tell her, reaching across to grab the loaf so I can rip more from it. She glows under my praise and it tugs at my heart.
“Try the olive one,” she says, sliding a cupboard open and taking out a fresh loaf.
“How much bread do you have hidden away?” I ask, grinning.
“I make it for the church,” she says, cutting a slice and passing it over. She’s right, it’s even better. “And I take some to my mum.”
“The church?”
“They feed families that can’t afford to eat.”
It drags memories from my own childhood and I give my head a shake to clear them. “Do they pay you?”
She laughs. “No. And I wouldn’t take a penny if they offered. They’re doing it out the goodness of their hearts. There are loads of volunteers who help out. It’s where I’m heading now. Actually, would you watch Ivy for two minutes while I get changed?” I give a nod, and she rushes off.
I sigh heavily and gently stroke a finger over Ivy’s cheek. “Now what, little goblin? Why’s she gotta be baking bread and helping others like Mary damn Poppins?”
LUNA
I pull on a hoody and some jeans then stick my feet into my tatty trainers. Grizz looks me up and down, and I wonder what he’s thinking. I’m not sure he’s seen me in normal clothes. I take the fresh loaf from the oven and tip it into a box for my mum.
“Sorry I’ve got to shoot off,” I tell him, taking Ivy from the chair and carrying her to her pushchair in the hallway, “but thanks for stopping by.”
“I’ll come,” he blurts out and immediately frowns like he didn’t mean to offer.
“It’s fine. You must have things to do,” I say, tucking Ivy under her blanket.
Grizz leans over. “Will she be warm enough in there?” he asks, checking the thickness of the blanket.
I laugh. “Yes. I have this too,” I say, holding up the thicker blanket. He takes it from me and covers her over. I can’t help the way my heart squeezes at how he fusses over her.
I grab the bread boxes and stick them under the pushchair, and when I open the door, Grizz takes control of the pushchair and I follow him with a smile on my face.
We get in the lift, and he screws his nose up at the smell of urine. “You get used to it,” I tell him, laughing.
“She shouldn’t breathe it in,” he mutters, nodding to Ivy.
We go up to the next floor and move along to Mum’s flat. “Wait here,” I tell him, pushing the door open.
He ignores me and follows me inside. I inwardly groan, praying she isn’t in a mood today. I take a loaf and go into the living room, hoping she’s asleep so I can just dump it and run. I freeze when I spot Nate and his friend on the couch smoking a joint. Mum is in her underwear, and for a second, she looks relieved to see me. “Here she is, Perfect Polly with her loaf of bread,” sneers Nate.
