Page 23 of The Sugar and Spice Bookshop Bakery

‘Pub? But there isn’t a pub.’

‘Isn’t there? I thought there was. Wishful thinking. You know, must have been a mirage or something. Like when you’re stuck in the desert and think there’s an oasis.’

‘A mirage? No, I’m not buying that. You’re cheating. You have to say things you can actually see. My go. I spy with my little eye something beginning with…’ She pauses, looking round for something that won’t be too obvious, suddenly feeling competitive. ‘Something beginning with R.’

‘Ring,’ he says, almost immediately.

Louise looks down at the small signet ring she wears on her left hand. It was a birthday gift from her father when she was sixteen. And then her eyes wander to Jack’s fingers again, resting lightly on the steering wheel. He isn’t wearing a ring. She remembers shaking hands with him. How his hands had felt rough.

‘What did you say you did for a living?’ she says, trying to recall their conversation.

Jack hesitates before replying. ‘I create buildings.’

She waits, expecting him to elaborate, but when he doesn’t, she says, ‘So, something beginning with R?’

‘Not ring then?’

‘Nope.’

‘Range Rover,’ he says decisively.

‘Yeah, how did you know?’

‘Your first guess for my P was Peugeot, so I suspected you might choose a make of car.’

‘I’m that predictable?’

‘’fraid so,’ he laughs.

‘I was surprised you drive a van. I thought you’d have something flash.’

‘Just cos I’m Italian? I left the Ferrari in London. It’s not good in these bumpy little lanes.’

‘Ferrari?’

He glances at her and laughs. ‘Just kidding. I bought this thinking I might convert it. You know, into a campervan.’

‘That’d be nice,’ she says. ‘I like campervans. Okay, I want another go. Something beginning with S.’

‘It’s my turn.’

‘Yeah, but you got it too quickly. Something beginning with S.’

‘Sheep,’ he says.

‘No.’

‘Stones. Or stone wall.’

‘Still no.’ She’s feeling confident that he’ll never get this one.

‘Skoda. Subaru. Suzuki. SEAT. Smart car.’

‘It’s not a make of car.’

‘Makes a change.’ He grins at her.

‘Oi,’ she laughs, lightly punching his arm. ‘I’m not that predictable.’