Page 35
“Hey, if you wanna get rid, I’m doing a drop-off at the charity shop this afternoon,” said Fiona.
“Oh! Thanks, Fi…but Mum might have stuff to donate, too.” Cramming the belongings into the nearest bookshelf, Evie flashed a grin. “Best to wait.”
* * *
On the cusp of giving up, Evie exhumed the tea-stained cookbook from a pile of photo albums under the desk. With minutes to spare, she and Sunita waved Fiona farewell, picked up their chicken from the butcher, and raced through the morning fog to the Shapinsay ferry, ensuring that their hot breakfast of eggs, sausages, and hashbrowns was cooked and served on time. Nick, however, didn’t show or send his PA for the second meal in a row, leaving Evie wondering, Were yesterday’s breakie burritos that bad?
Prepping for lunch with her mum’s notes by her side, she fell into a pounding rhythm with Sunita, their mallets flattening a seemingly endless supply of chicken breasts.
“Fi said she’s dying to see inside the castle,” said Sunita, pausing for a well-deserved sip of coffee. “She might sign up the girls, too.”
“She better act fast,” said Evie. “I overheard the production manager say they’ve got thirty extras so far.”
“I don’t doubt it. I saw a notice on the ferry and in the window of the newsagent. They’re everywhere. Got a mention on the radio, too.”
Glancing out the window, Evie spied her brother in his blue veterinarian scrubs walking up the drive toward the truck and the castle’s gatehouse. “Sam’s here?” She shared a quizzical look with Sunita and slid open the glass.
He waved. “Hey, Sprout! My morning surgery got canceled, so I thought I’d come over, check on Mr. Rendall’s bull.” He patted the backpack dangling from his arm. “I brought sandwiches. Wanna bite before I head back on the ferry?”
“She does, yep! Please make her eat something.” Leaving her coffee on the counter, Sunita walked over to the sink and began washing her hands.
Evie pummeled the last chicken breast, taking out her frustrations. “I don’t have time.”
“You don’t have time to faint either,” said Sunita. “We’re not serving lunch till two.” She peeked at her watch. “You have over an h—”
“Fine. I’ll eat.”
“Good!” Sunita tore off a piece of paper towel.
After washing her hands, Evie picked up a cola for Sam and a water for herself and joined him at one of the picnic tables dotted around the truck. He popped open a plastic container and handed her a sandwich.
Evie snooped between the bread, spotting purple jelly. A hit of nostalgia buzzed through her. “Woohoo, PB and J! Thanks, Sam! I haven’t had this in ages.” She bit into the spongy white bread, and sweet grape and salty peanut butter greeted her tongue. “Mmm—memories!”
“What’s this ages business? It’s one of your comfort meals.” Sam wolfed a corner of his ham and cheese.
Chewing blissfully, Evie grinned into a swallow. “Was one. I’ve grown up. My tastes have changed.”
“You say that,” he mumbled through his mouthful, “but I saw you tear into a pack of Snowballs last week.”
“Shh! You’re blowing my cover. I’m supposed to be a connoisseur of the culinary arts, don’tcha know.” With a laugh, she licked grape jelly off her bottom lip. “How’s the Rendalls’ bull?”
“Better. His eye is finally healing. How are you?” Sam took another substantial bite of his sandwich, leaving little behind.
“Hanging in.” She nibbled the crust. “Praying I don’t poison anyone.”
“It’s not too late to call Mum.”
Evie lowered her sandwich. “Would you stop?! This is the first time she’s been away in literally decades. I want her to enjoy herself. I’d like the chance to make her proud, too, show her I can cope. She’s always so hands-on.”
“I know, but you look shattered, and Mum wouldn’t want you stressed—”
“I’m not!” Much.
“When’s your next infusion?” asked Sam. Evie’s current treatment for Crohn’s was an intravenous medication administered at the hospital as an outpatient every eight weeks. The meds worked well, keeping most of her symptoms at bay, but exhaustion wasn’t one of them.
“July 29. After work.”
“Evie, you’re running yourself into th—”
