Page 36 of The Sugar and Spice Bookshop Bakery

‘Yeah,’ Louise says. ‘And would that be… is that… expensive? A difficult job?’

‘Not really. A decent builder will do that in no time.’

Louise pushes all thoughts of fine Italian cashmere and lemon groves and Jack’s fingers on her skin out of her mind, and forces herself to focus on what they’re actually supposed to be discussing: the bakery. ‘I don’t know about removing that wall. I thought if we removed a small part of the kitchen – I think I can manage with a smaller one – so you can walk through to the back where the extension would be.’

She gestures towards the door to the kitchen, and he leads the way.

They stand in the kitchen for a second, Jack surveying the shiny stainless-steel surfaces. Louise can’t help but imagine him lifting her up onto one of those surfaces, pushing her skirt aside and kissing her passionately. She is, in fact, wearing jeans, but this is a fantasy, so she’s allowed to change clothes suddenly and there’s no copyeditor to tell her otherwise.

‘And then the extension?’ he is saying.

Louise gestures at the back door. ‘Would be through there.’

Jack opens the door, and they step back out into the night.

‘Huge garden,’ he says. ‘Does it go all the way down to the river?’

Louise nods. ‘It does. I was thinking you could design a massive garden room – you know, all glass and stainless steel like on Grand Designs. Then most of the tables and chairs would be there, and I’d have the bookshop part in the front of the building. What do you think?’

He’s quiet for a moment. When he speaks, his tone is careful. ‘It’s ambitious. And it’ll be expensive – I don’t know what your budget is. And it’s not really in keeping with the character of the building. Or the village as a whole.’

Louise’s stomach drops. There it is. He doesn’t want the job.

‘Right.’ She tries to keep her voice neutral. ‘You’re saying no? To the job?’

‘No, I’m just saying… well, everyone has these glass extensions slapped on the back of their buildings. It’s not very original. I’d have thought you might want something more unique.’ He turns to face her, though in the darkness she can barely make out his features.

She feels heat rising in her cheeks, grateful for the darkness. He thinks her vision is wrong. Tacky, probably.

‘Wouldn’t something unique be even more expensive?’

He shakes his head. ‘Not necessarily.’

‘So what do you suggest?’ She tries not to sound defensive, but hears the edge in her voice anyway.

‘Keep the bakery mostly as is. Maybe reduce the number of tables, so you can add bookshelves around the walls. And instead of a big extension…’ He pauses, and Louise braces herself. ‘What about using the garden differently? This is just off the top of my head, but how about some garden sheds? Or a converted shipping container? Lots of little spaces, each with its own character. Some bookshelves in each one. Chairs and tables too.’

‘Sheds.’ Louise’s voice comes out flat.

‘Think summerhouses. Garden rooms. A stepping stone path connecting them. On warm days you’d have outdoor seating. It’d be quirky, bohemian and much more affordable.’

Louise stands very still. She doesn’t want sheds, quirky or otherwise.

‘It sounds very different from what I had in mind.’

‘I know, but it’d be quicker too. This way, you could be up and running much faster. And as the business grows, you could add more structures.’

Sheds and then more sheds. Perfect.

‘Perhaps if you showed me a picture,’ she says. ‘You know, a computer-generated image. Isn’t that what you architects do?’

Jack shifts his weight from one foot to the other. ‘I haven’t got my office set up yet. Don’t have the software running.’

‘A sketch would do.’

Weren’t architects supposed to be good at drawing?

There’s a pause that goes on just a fraction too long. Louise looks at him quizzically.