Page 89 of The Sugar and Spice Bookshop Bakery

‘No, I’ll go,’ Anna says quickly.

‘Thanks, Anna. I might take five minutes. Just in case there’s any more poets wanting to collar me.’

‘Sure thing.’ Anna grabs a floor mop and bucket from the cupboard and heads into the bakery.

Louise pops a smoked salmon blini into her mouth, then rearranges the remaining ones so there isn’t a gap on the plate.

‘Great party,’ Jack says.

‘My mother seems to have invited the entire village.’

‘Except the Geriatric Mean Girls.’

‘Thank goodness. I don’t think I could have coped with them today. Can’t imagine champagne in mugs going down too well with Miss Anderson. Though she probably only drinks Premier Cru.’

Jack smiles for a second, then his face becomes serious. ‘Louise, are you alright?’

She opens her mouth to speak, but can’t find the words.

‘Oh, Luisa,’ Jack says, his voice soft and full of concern.

Her heart flutters at the word ‘Luisa’.

‘Don’t.’ She holds up a hand. ‘You’ll make me cry.’

He’s standing close. She breathes in the scent of him. Gives an involuntary shiver, recalling the touch of his fingers on her bare skin.

‘You’re going,’ she says. ‘And now Maddie is too.’

‘We’re not abandoning you.’

‘Then why does it feel that way?’ She looks down at the floor, then back at him. ‘Sorry, I’m being pathetic. I shouldn’t have let myself fall for you.’

‘I’ll visit,’ he says. ‘And I’m sure Maddie will too.’

Louise sighs. ‘It isn’t the same.’ She takes a deep breath, trying to pull herself together. ‘We should get back out there.’

She glances through the serving hatch and sees her mother draped over Richard’s arm, laughing at something he’s said.

‘Your mother’s in fine form,’ Jack murmurs in her ear.

‘She always is when Richard’s around. I think she might have had a bit too much to drink. Perhaps it’s time to start wrapping this up.’

She heads back out into the front, grabs a teaspoon and taps against a discarded glass. The room falls silent. ‘Maddie, it was a wonderful surprise when you landed on my doorstep with your luggage – quite a lot of luggage, I seem to remember – and announced that you’d come to stay. And what an asset you’ve been, working like a trojan on the book nooks, bringing your artistic flair and your imagination. We couldn’t have done it without you, could we, Jack?’

‘No, we couldn’t.’

‘And now you’re going. You’ve really become a part of this village and we’re going to miss you terribly, but we wish you every success with your new job in London. That’s one lucky art gallery to have you doing their marketing. Everyone, will you please raise a glass or a mug to Maddie.’

‘To Maddie!’ they all chorus.

‘Oh, I’m so sad you’re going,’ Elizabeth whines. ‘You’re like the granddaughter I never had.’ She looks pointedly at Louise as she says this.

‘Well, I am sort of a granddaughter,’ Maddie says. ‘A step-granddaughter. And don’t worry, I’ll be back for the grand opening. There’s no way I’m missing that. And I’m bringing Theo.’

Tom, who’s standing beside her, frowns at the mention of Maddie’s boyfriend, but recovers himself quickly, raising his mug at her. Then there’s a knock at the door. More of a hammering, an angry kind of hammering, rather than a tardy guest arriving to join the celebration.

Maddie goes to answer. There is no one there, but she stoops to pick something up. As she turns back to the group, Louise sees what she’s holding and feels immediately sick.