‘He’s Italian?’
She nodded.
‘And you’re not over him.’ He pulled a face. ‘There I go again, overstepping.’ It wasn’t what he usually did but it was as though being close to her released a valve that usually stayed in place to prevent him from blurting out anything that came into his head.
Thankfully she looked amused rather than annoyed. ‘You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?’
‘Not particularly, I’m just curious.’
‘About the photograph.’
The photograph, other things too. Maybe this was what his dad had meant when he accused him of hiding himself away, not taking a chance on the real world. He’d come to the village expecting nothing other than hard graft and Etna’s attention before he found more supply work in September. He definitely hadn’t expected Jade.
‘So, what’s your story?’ Jade asked him all of a sudden. ‘We’ve all got one,’ she persisted. She was turning the tables to put the conversation onto him.
‘Nothing to tell,’ he claimed, enjoying the game.
‘Spoilsport.’
When a bit of colour flushed her cheeks he said, ‘Tell me I’m wrong about the Italian and if you say you’re over him I won’t ever mention him or the fact you carry his picture in your bag again.’
She began to laugh, an exasperated but jolly sound. ‘Goodnight, Linc.’
‘Hey,’ he called after her when she turned and started walking away, towards her cottage. ‘We’re in the middle of a conversation, you can’t just leave.’ But he was laughing.
She turned back still smiling but didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. The look she gave him was enough to tell him his feelings weren’t all one-sided. And he made his way back to Etna’s with a spring in his step that had been absent for as long as he could remember.
Coming to Heritage Cove may just be the best move he’d made in a long time.
Chapter Four
In the cottage, aware of the sounds of renovations coming from the bakery beyond and knowing full well that Linc was there, Jade got to thinking about the way she’d flirted with him after the pub quiz a few nights ago. Flirting was all well and good but Jade had been doing that since her twenties and as fun as it was, she wanted and needed more now. The unfortunate thing was that every time Jade caught a glimpse of Linc, no matter how quick it was, it made her want to hang around and keep him company, talk some more. With him it seemed easy. And in some ways, he was perfect. She could have a bit of fun, then once he left the village she could get back down to the business of running the bakery and the rest of her life plan that she was ready to make a start with. Now more than ever.
Jade and Celeste were similar in many ways. Celeste had the same willowy height as her sister, inherited from their mother’s side. Of Irish descent, they both had porcelain skin and green eyes, as well as a row of freckles across the bridge of their nose. But the similarities ended there. Celeste had had her hair shaped into a pixie cut that suited her slightly edgier and more confident personality, and Celeste had never ever talked about wanting to settle down. She was all about work, she thrived on it, and when it came to her personal life, she was content to have a fling here and there – she’d had one in Bordeaux with the most handsome Frenchman you’ll ever see. He owned a winery, he wanted her to stay there with him in his farmhouse, and he might have persuaded Celeste if their accommodation hadn’t been booked elsewhere. Then there was the divorcee in Budapest who was clearly letting off steam after the demise of his marriage of fifteen years. Celeste had enjoyed being wined and dined, being spoiled – at least until he’d spent one date talking all about his wife. Her guess was that he’d go back to her in the end as though he didn’t know how to be on his own.
Jade rinsed out the dishcloth and hung it over the rail next to the sink to dry. She’d finished wiping down all of the kitchen surfaces in the cottage, which was their workspace during the day. They’d had the official inspections to ensure their preparation practices and spaces as well as food safety procedures were adequate. They’d got the go-ahead and, so far, the arrangement was working well while the bakery was closed. They were running a minimal business and because they were used to being somewhat busier, they’d found themselves getting very organised very quickly. This morning, nice and early with a full day ahead for them, Jade and Celeste had made up an order of fresh bread rolls for the school’s summer holiday programme, another of pastries and a selection of cupcakes for Aubrey House, the residential home, which was having its annual summer party for residents and their families. Alongside all that going on, Jade had been organising cake samples for Barney and Lois to test this afternoon, and while Celeste headed off to make the delivery to Aubrey house, Jade could focus once again.
She took out the recipe for a lemon-elderflower cake she was making for a fiftieth birthday celebration at the end of the week. She’d already lined two cake tins for the tiers as well as put out a couple of individual silicone cupcake moulds to do the sample miniatures. This morning she’d held back two cupcakes – one vanilla sponge with spiced rum buttercream, the other a rhubarb base with delicate creamy frosting – and she was all set with a sample of fruit cake too because last month she’d made a wedding cake and kept a couple of small versions aside that she’d been infusing with brandy every few days to get the premium taste she was looking for. She’d prepared even more miniatures this morning too, as she’d made a carrot cake to order, a beetroot chocolate cake and a vanilla sponge with ginger frosting. She wanted Barney and Lois to try a good variety of flavour combinations before they made their final selection, which, according to Lois, was to be simple and elegant with fresh flowers for decoration.
As she worked, whisking the eggs, yogurt and milk together and then beating the butter and sugar, Jade’s thoughts drifted to the photograph of Dario that she no longer kept in her bag, because Linc finding it had made it more real. And what’s more, it made it even sadder that she was carrying it around with her as if she couldn’t let go, couldn’t accept the holiday romance for what it had been. Short-lived, all-consuming, but now it was gone. And so was the photograph. She’d put it away with the others in the box at the back of her wardrobe, along with the necklace Dario had given her on her birthday, the ticket stub from their tour of the Teatro La Fenice, the magnificent opera house with its sumptuous interiors embellished in gold, a place Jade had been in awe of and wanted to return to again and again.
Jade added the wet ingredients to the dry and folded them in, thinking back to those heady days experiencing the world, the trip that reached its climax in Venice, the floating city with its winding canals and striking architecture, and the man Jade had thought might just be the one she was supposed to be with. The bustling zigzagging alleyways in Venice and the mayhem of the city that had been on the girls’ wish list from the start of their trip had left its mark on Jade for good. Because Jade wanted the dream. She wanted the career and the personal life; she just didn’t know whether she was ever going to get it.
‘Knock, knock!’ A voice came from the open back door of the cottage now, tugging Jade from her reverie. Probably a good job too. She needed to concentrate and her mind had wandered hundreds of miles away.
‘Come in,’ Jade called, knowing it would be Melissa as planned with her secret ingredient to add to this masterpiece.
‘It’s warm in here.’ Melissa wafted a hand in front of her face. The door was open in an attempt to get a through draft while Jade was baking, but she’d been hard at it for hours and so had the July sunshine, not jumping behind any clouds today. ‘The elderflower cordial you wanted, made by yours truly,’ Melissa announced proudly, setting a bottle down on the counter as Jade poured cake batter into the two awaiting tins as well as the cupcake moulds. ‘Carol took me through the recipe. She can’t wait to pick the berries as soon as they’re ready – I swear she stops by every day to check on the bushes.’
‘You love it as much as she does.’
‘Guilty,’ Melissa grinned.
Melissa lived with Harvey at Tumbleweed House, which once belonged to Harvey’s mum, Carol, until she moved to a smaller cottage in the village. Most of the land that had come with the house originally when Carol’s parents were the owners had been sold off, but half an acre remained and, along with it, the elderberry bushes that had been in Harvey’s family for generations.
Jade eyed the bottle of cordial. ‘I’m interested, how did you make the cordial if the berries aren’t ready? Should I be concerned?’
‘Not at all. The cordial is made using the flowers rather than the berries, and the flowers were perfect last month when they were open and wonderfully fragrant.’ She perched on a stool and wiggled her fingers when she described the scent from the plant. ‘The cordial will be the perfect ingredient for your cake, I promise.’
