As the afternoon wore on and there was no sign of him, she began to worry that he wouldn’t be back in time for dinner. She was folding melted chocolate into whisked egg whites and watching the mixture marble when Owen wandered in. ‘What are you making?’ he asked. ‘Smells great!’
‘Chocolate cake,’ she told him, licking a finger.
He was standing so close that their bodies touched when sheturned, but Owen didn’t move. ‘You missed a bit,’ he said, taking Kate’s hand and sucking off the chocolate in a very suggestive way. ‘Mmm, gorgeous.’ His dark eyes locked with hers, as brown and melting as the chocolate. He was so close she could smell the sun on his skin.
Suddenly Kate felt hot and flustered. ‘It’s a birthday cake for Will,’ she said, returning to the bowl. ‘You know it’s his birthday today?’
‘Oh, haven’t you heard?’
‘What?’ Kate asked, turning back to him.
‘I thought you knew,’ Owen said, his smile fading. He was looking at her warily now.
‘Knew what?’
‘Well, it’s just that Tina flew in to surprise him and she’s taking him out for his birthday dinner. He’s gone to meet her in Florence. I think he’ll stay overnight.’
‘Oh!’ Kate struggled to sound normal, but she felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. And the worst of it was, Owen was looking right at her. He must see how she was feeling. She could feel her face crumpling and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
She turned back to the cake mixture, intent on folding in the rest of the chocolate, furiously blinking away the tears that welled in her eyes.What’s there to cry about anyway?Kate scolded herself, trying to pull herself together, and clutched the spoon so tightly she thought it might snap.It’s only a stupid cake, a stupid dinner. When are you ever going to learn? You know Will has a girlfriend, you know it’s notyou. Of course he’s going out with Tina on his birthday. What could be more normal?
She wanted to say something cheery to Owen to make him go away so she could bawl her eyes out in peace, but the tears weretearing at her throat. Her face caved in and a sob she tried to swallow emerged as a muffled squeak.
‘Hey!’ Owen said softly, placing warm hands on her shoulders and turning her to face him.
Mortified, Kate couldn’t look him in the eye. ‘Sorry,’ she sobbed brokenly to the floor. ‘This is ridiculous.’
‘Ssh,’ Owen whispered, wiping away the tears with his thumb. He pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair.
His kindness was the last straw and Kate clung to him, burying her face in his neck. He smelled of sunshine and weed, mixed with musky aftershave. His hand stroked her back soothingly.
Eventually the tears subsided and she regained control of herself. ‘Sorry,’ she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I don’t know why I’m crying, really.’ She sniffed, trying to smile. ‘It’s just—’ She felt such an idiot, so exposed.
‘Hey, it’s perfectly understandable. You’ve gone to all this trouble,’ Owen jerked a thumb at the food, ‘and the least the stupid sod could have done is let you know he wouldn’t be here.’
Kate nodded. She knew he was being kind and that he didn’t believe for a moment she was crying over the food, but she was grateful to him for saving her face.
‘Hey, I know something that’ll cheer us up,’ Owen said, grinning down at her. ‘Wait here.’ He darted out of the kitchen. Kate went to the sink, splashed cold water on her face and dried it with kitchen paper.
Moments later, Owen was back, wielding the biggest bag of weed Kate had ever seen. ‘Let’s spice up Will’s birthday cake,’ he said, brandishing it triumphantly. He was already hovering over the mixing bowl, opening the bag and about to tip the contents into the mixture.
‘Wait! You can’t put it straight in – we need to grind it up first.’ She lifted the lid of the food processor.
‘How much do you think we need?’ Owen asked, tipping in a generous quantity of the buds.
‘I don’t know. They don’t teach you hash cake in cooking school.’
‘Hmmm. I don’t suppose Delia has a recipe for it either. Still, you seem to know what you’re doing.’
‘Not really. I’ve only made hash cakes once in my life, and I had a recipe.’
Kate had ground the buds to fine powder, which she blended now into some melted butter. They both gazed into the pan dubiously, wondering about the amount. Kate knew the principles of hash cooking, but had no idea of the required quantity.
‘Stir it in and we’ll see how it looks,’ Owen instructed. He stood beside her as she did so, watching the process carefully.
‘Maybe we should do a bit more, just to be on the safe side,’ he said, tipping another large amount into the food processor.
When all the cannabis had dissolved into the butter, she folded the mixture into the chocolate. There probably wasn’t much chance of the cake rising now, she thought, as she poured the batter into a tin and put it into the oven – but it would be jolly nice anyway.
