Page 43 of The Sugar and Spice Bookshop Bakery

He bites his lip. ‘This is so difficult, Louise. But I have to make a confession, before things go any further.’

Here it comes.

‘Please don’t repeat this to anyone,’ Jack says. ‘Not to Maddie. Not to your mother.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Especially not to your mother.’

‘No, I won’t. You have my word.’

‘Ah, there’s no easy way to say this. I haven’t been exactly truthful with you.’ Her stomach drops.

‘You’re with someone.’

‘With someone? No! God, no. It’s not that.’

‘Then what?’ The relief makes her almost light-headed, but the anxiety rushes back in.

‘This isn’t about… Did you think…?’ He shakes his head. ‘It’s business related.’

‘Yes, of course, I knew that!’ she says indignantly, even though she hadn’t known at all.

‘Unless… sorry, did you think this was a date?’ he asks.

She runs her finger round the rim of her wine glass, then lifts her eyes to his. ‘Oh, no, not at all. Maddie may have teased me a little.’ Her cheeks grow hot. She picks up one of the menus and fans herself. ‘It’s warm in here. Are you warm?’

‘Not especially,’ he says. ‘Shall I get some water?’

She puts the menu down again. ‘No, I’m fine.’

Jack frowns. ‘When you’ve heard what I’ve got to say, you’ll probably be very glad that we’re not on a date.’

‘Well, out with it then. Or do I have to guess?’

She looks at Jack, directly into his eyes, but then she’s suddenly aware that someone is standing beside them. She glances up, expecting to see Tom again, but instead there’s a grey-haired man in a tired anorak and saggy jeans. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt,’ he says. ‘But I wondered if I could ask your advice? Louise, isn’t it? May I sit down?’

‘Erm, be my guest,’ she says, somewhat needlessly, as the man is already slipping into the spare seat at their table beside Jack.

‘My name’s Andy and I would like to write a book.’ The sentence comes out rather robotically, as if it’s a line he’s been rehearsing.

‘What would your book be about, Andy?’ Jack asks.

Louise fights the urge to kick him under the table. She doesn’t want to be unkind, but this is something of an occupational hazard. As soon as people know she works – worked – in publishing, they want her advice about the brilliant bestseller they’ve been carrying around in their head for years. Not to mention, Jack was just about to tell her something important!

‘Signal boxes on the Settle to Carlisle railway.’ Andy looks proud of himself, clearly convinced that this is a killer idea.

‘Signal boxes?’ Louise is less convinced.

‘Interesting,’ Jack says. ‘Why signal boxes?’

Louise’s foot twitches, inching closer to Jack’s ankle. ‘The signal boxes on that particular line are absolutely fascinating,’ Andy says. ‘The one in Settle itself is a museum, of course.’

‘Of course,’ Louise says, though she hasn’t heard of it. ‘Then there’s Blea Moor signal box – that’s still a

working box. And there’s Garsdale and Horton-in-Ribblesdale and—’

‘And what’s your angle?’ Louise says.