Page 18 of My Summer of Magic Moments

‘And your cousin?’

‘Yes, good news for her too. Thank heavens. She has two teenage daughters. It was a tough time for her. I’m sure for you too. Those treatments take it right out of you, don’t they?’

‘Yep, they can do, Lynda … But like I say, I’m feeling so much better now.’

‘That’s the main thing.’ She smiled. ‘So, how can I help you today, or did you just fancy a chat?’

As well as some provisions to put in the fridge, Claire ordered some strong white bread flour and yeast, and some sesame seeds, dried thyme and marjoram for the top of her next bread creation.

‘Mmm, that sounds interesting. What kind of bread are you planning on making today, then?’

‘Maneesh.’

Lynda looked blank. ‘And what’s that when it’s at home then?’

‘Hah, it was in that book you lent me. A Middle Eastern-style flatbread.’

‘Very fancy – sounds delicious. When will it be ready? What time shall I pop in?’ She grinned cheekily.

‘Actually, you’re very welcome to pop in.’ Some company might be really nice. ‘If you have a few spare minutes on your way home, or something, call in for some coffee if you like.’

‘Hmm, sounds like a good idea … And I get to sample these baking delights?’

‘Of course.’

She felt comfortable with Lynda, even though she must be a good twenty years older than her.

‘You’re on, pet. That would be lovely. I’ll call in after closing time for a quick cuppa. I have to pass the end of your driveway, anyway. I live just on the edge of Seahouses. It’s old Hedley’s cottage, isn’t it?’

‘Yep, that’s the one.’

As Lynda was measuring out the ingredients, Claire spotted a familiar black vehicle parked just across the road. Guess who? Her insides gave a weird flip. Bugger. Oh well, she’d hang around in here for a little while longer; there were no other customers in yet.

‘Has it been busy here?’ she asked.

‘Not too bad. Whit week was pretty hectic because of the school holidays, but now the children are all back, it’s settled down a bit.’

‘How long have you been here in the deli?’

‘Oh, about ten years now, pet. It was always my dream. I used to be a receptionist at a funeral directors, believe it or not. It was fine, I liked the job, met some nice people. The relatives, I mean.’

Claire smiled, picturing Lynda chatting away to the corpses. She could imagine her being pleasant and friendly on reception – she had a lovely manner for dealing with the bereaved.

‘I just wanted to run my own business,’ she continued, ‘and it had to be a deli. All that lovely food, and the chance to bake my own bread. I’d been baking away at home for years, trying out all sorts of recipes, and bread was what I loved creating the most. When I saw this place up for rent, that was it – I knew it was my ideal shop. The deli in the cottage on the corner. And Bamburgh is such a beautiful village, with plenty of tourists to keep a little business like this going. It’s perfect for me. I’ve never looked back.’

‘That’s great. It must be wonderful to achieve your dream like that. It’s a gorgeous shop.’

‘Thank you.’

The car was still there across the way, but there was no sign of Ed. A family came in for ice creams, oohing and ahhing over the delicious flavours. It was getting a little crowded, and Lynda was now busy scooping and serving. Claire should slip away, go to the butcher and get the chicken to roast for her dinner. That was all she had left to do, and then she could get off back down to the beach.

‘See you later, Lynda. And remember to pop in if you have time on the way home. You’ll be very welcome.’

‘Will do. See you later.’

Claire walked up the pavement beside the row of stone cottages, and was just heading into the butcher’s shop when boomph, she bumped into someone coming out. Shit! Ed.

Her cheeks blasted pink with embarrassment. Thanks, Fate.