‘You got rid of the photograph?’ Celeste double-checked.
‘I put it with all the others, away, out of sight. I need to move forwards.’
With a sigh of relief, Celeste told her, ‘Not before time.’
Jade rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t for one minute think this means I need help finding someone new.’ Celeste never really went in for the whole matchmaking thing – at least, she hadn’t until Linc had come along but Jade could tell that was exactly the way her mind was now working.
‘Don’t worry, I know you’re old enough to run your own love life.’
‘What about yours?’
‘Oh no,’ said Celeste with a shake of her head, ‘this is about you.’
Jade laughed and pulled open a packet of biscuits, waving them in her sister’s direction. Celeste took one and just about had enough tea in the bottom of her mug to dunk it. ‘That’s a revolting habit. You totally spoil a good biscuit, making it soggy.’
‘Rubbish.’ She popped the whole thing in her mouth and attempted to say, ‘Best thing ever.’
Biscuit eaten, Celeste returned to the topic of their bakery and the amazing kitchen they’d begun to put in order. There was a lot of work to be done, but despite the exhaustion, they both felt the elation. And Jade was only glad they hadn’t lingered on the topic of Dario or Linc. She didn’t talk about Dario much anyway, not these days. She had at the time – when they’d first left Venice she’d gone on and on about him and it had driven Celeste batty until Jade stopped sharing and kept her feelings to herself.
She wondered, when Celeste found out what she intended to do, would she think she’d lost her mind? She might well do, and once she knew, she wouldn’t be encouraging Jade to get involved with another man either.
Chapter Nine
‘Thank you for writing the blog post.’ The doctor Linc had seen the first time he’d come to the clinic caught up with him in reception following his scheduled appointment. ‘You come across well, I knew you would.’
‘You’ve got more faith in me than I have in myself.’ But Linc tried to take the compliment. ‘It was hard at first, putting my feelings into words, but I think in a way it’s helped me too. I’ve faced a few conflicting opinions along the way and even though I did the mandatory counselling here, the process still messed with my head a bit.’
‘You faced opposition to what you’re doing?’ The doctor passed some forms over the reception desk to Nadine, the lady who always welcomed you with a smile. In the time he’d been coming here, he’d got to know most of the staff well. The whole arrangement put everyone at ease, no matter the reason they’d come to the clinic.
‘My girlfriend – who I’m no longer with, by the way – thought I was some kind of weirdo.’
The doctor’s harrumph suggested he’d heard that and worse many times before. ‘You know, that viewpoint says more about the other person than it does about you or what we do here.’ He put a reassuring hand on Linc’s shoulder. ‘You’re doing a good thing, a very good thing.’
Linc left his appointment and realised that the honesty and maturity behind his blog post made him feel ready to share exactly what he’d been up to with someone else. He could tell Etna – she’d understand the end result but perhaps not the process. He could tell his dad; he’d approve. He could tell the boys he’d begun to bond with in Heritage Cove, he could tell Jade.
Jade. She was the person he wanted to tell the most, but he didn’t want to scare her off. Since he’d been in the Cove and the bakery had gone from being stripped bare to looking almost finished and ready for the grand opening later today, they’d begun to get on better and better. When they talked, they really talked, and he sensed she needed it as much as he did. She’d popped into the tea rooms more in the last few days, according to Etna, and Etna had said it was as though she was looking for something.Or someone, she’d added to him last night when he’d gone over for supper with her and his dad. He’d been living at Harvey’s for a few days but didn’t want to encroach on his time with Melissa, and besides, he wanted to see his dad as much as he could, gauge whether a house move in this direction could be a possibility.
Linc was about to start the car when his phone rang and after a brief conversation, he told the head teacher at the school that he’d go and see her tomorrow. He had an interview and she sounded keen already.
Linc drove back to the Cove rehearsing in his head what he’d say when they met, possible interview questions and responses. Over his time as a teacher, he’d planned and prepared his lessons according to the curriculum and outlined syllabus, but he’d also tried to inject a bit of personality into an otherwise banal formal teaching process without breaking too many rules. He’d run extra lessons to bring students up to par so they could join the orchestra, he’d shown engaging videos of music out there in the real world with some of the most renowned orchestras, pivotal performances. He’d had students watch footage of some of the more unusual instruments and the class had been enthralled to see a massive flute, a hybrid instrument known as the cello horn – its name self-explanatory – and, the star of the show, an enormous double bass made in the 1800s and standing over three metres tall. The instrument had a low-end rumble and could only be played by means of the musician standing on a special platform and pulling on levers to change the pitch of a string while drawing the specially made bow across to make a sound. In his permanent position, Linc had organised excursions – he could recall the passion in the eyes of the pupils in his class as they watched the London Philharmonic Orchestra at the Royal Albert Hall, or their enthusiasm on the trip that stuck in his memory as one of the best when they made it to Mozart’s birthplace in Salzburg. The performances of orchestras and choirs amidst jaw-dropping Alpine scenery had been one of the highlights of his teaching career but it was easy to forget all the highs when he was operating on a conveyor belt, passing in and out of schools to cover when they needed, not really investing time in the environment and team because he’d soon be on to another place.
Linc had many of the essential qualities he felt were necessary for a music teacher and went over them in his head as he drove back to the Cove. He had the patience to guide and push, he enjoyed one-on-one instruction or working with a group, he encouraged music appreciation of any kind, whether it came from a string quartet, a gospel choir, old Western and cowboy music, traditional folk songs or a punk rock band. It didn’t matter. Appreciation of music came from all directions and he wanted his students to explore possibilities and find a passion. Of course, not all of his students were interested in music, but when he found those who were it made his extra efforts more than worth it, especially when he encountered a kid who dismissed the idea of learning music and eventually came to love it.
Linc smiled as he arrived back in the village, proceeding around the bend and past the sign welcoming residents and newcomers, past the Heritage Inn on the corner. The Street looked different already beneath the sun that had come out as if especially for today after two days straight of bruised skies and miserable drizzle. Bunting was strung from one side to the other from lamp-posts. Tables lined the pavement in front of the bakery and already crowds were beginning to mill for the two-o’clock launch of the refurbished venue. He parked out the back of the tea rooms in one of the vacant spots Etna owned and as he twirled his car keys around one finger, he couldn’t stifle a bit of a whistle. Hearing from Jane had made him realise how ready he was to shift things around a little, to move to another school for a permanent role again and perhaps settle into the next phase of his life.
*
‘Would you look at this,’ Etna smiled, linking her arm through Joseph’s. Linc walked alongside as they made their way next door from the tea rooms to the bakery to join the big crowd swarming in eagerness. The signage was already up – Linc had seen Harvey and Daniel putting it up there this morning under Celeste’s guidance – but it was covered in paper, as were the windows, and it was all helping the excitement to mount. People were chatting amongst themselves, speculating over what the name might be, already talking about how they couldn’t wait for the bakery to be back in business.
Linc waved over to Jade and, if he wasn’t mistaken, she looked just as pleased to see him as he was her. He watched her stand on a stool, her sister on another, and Celeste hushed the crowds quickly by thanking them for coming, telling them she knew it had been hard for them all to see the bakery close for weeks but that the changes were well worth it. She was interrupted more than once – one person wanted to know if they’d still make a Victoria sponge; that request came from Mrs Filligree, who came in every Thursday to pick up the cake to take to her mother-in-law’s house for morning tea, according to Etna. Someone else wanted to know whether they’d still make sandwiches and rolls and would the coleslaw bap or the roast beef and caramelised onion varieties still be available.
‘We’ve got all your old favourites,’ Celeste assured the crowd. Linc was impressed she could be heard over them. ‘We’ll have some new items too and, of course, cakes by Jade for every occasion you might ever need, so don’t hesitate to make a booking with my sister to discuss your requirements.’
‘Make the most of it, everyone!’ Jade added. ‘We’ll be giving away a lot of free baked goods today!’ She waited for a cheer to subside. ‘You might have noticed my good friend Tilly weaving her way between you all. She’s in charge of giving everyone a voucher for a freebie. Whatever you like – a loaf of bread, brioche, a gingerbread cookie or a cupcake – it’s yours, and we hope it encourages you to come back for more.’
The applause and excitement mounted. The onlookers were like horses behind the starting gates, scraping their hooves on the ground, impatient to begin the race – this one being towards a bakery. The imagery had Linc amused as he wondered whether there could very well be a stampede. He decided he’d hold back a while. He swore he saw some folks’ elbows jut out at the mention of the free stuff. ‘Perhaps they think the bakery will run out of supplies if they’re not first,’ he said to his dad beneath his breath.
Joseph pulled down his cap that stopped the sun getting in his eyes. He’d had the same cap for years, almost as much a part of him as his grey hair and wrinkles and his favourite armchair. ‘I’m not surprised, the smell is intoxicating, especially if like me they didn’t have much of a lunch.’
