CHAPTER SIX
When I arrive at The Little Duck Pond Café the next day, Ellie has already opened up and lit some Christmas tree-scented candles, so the place smells warm and inviting. In just a few days, we’ll be heading into a brand new year, but Ellie’s clinging on to Christmas’s coat tails for as long as she can as it’s her most favourite time of year.
A family with two small, excited children are sitting at a table in the window eating individual ‘snow-frosted’ chocolate cakes with a small gingerbread snowman – complete with iced-on hat and jolly, red and white scarf – sitting on top of each one. (The snowmen were my idea and have apparently gone down a storm, although they were a bugger to ice.)
Ellie takes over a tray of hot chocolates in tall glasses then joins me at the counter.
I grin at her. ‘You know, I think you should ask the boss if you can go on holiday.’ Ellie has insisted on opening the café for a few hours every afternoon between Christmas and New Year.
‘Well, since I am the boss, there’s no need.’
‘But the business won’t go down the tubes if you actually took some time off occasionally. Especially at Christmas.’
She shrugs. ‘Yes, but you know me. I can’t stay away. I’ve never been such a workaholic in my life, but it’s only because I absolutely love this place!’ She beams around the café with pride.
‘Hey, I don’t blame you. Sylvia was so right to pass it on to you for safe-keeping. You’ve turned it into the heart and soul of the community, you clever girl.’
She smiles. ‘I owe Sylvia a lot. The café truly is my baby, second only to Zak and Maisie. Ooh, Fen, I can’t wait to get going with the bakery extension!’ She rubs her hands together, eyes gleaming with excitement.
‘I can’t believe Madge is closing down the bakery in the village. It’s the end of an era!’
‘End of a reign of terror, more like!’ grins Ellie. ‘Remember the bad old days? When Madge forced you to make all the cakes and breads for her “artisan bakery” but pretended it was all made by her own fair hands!’
I nod. ‘I was so timid in those days, I actually went along with it – and she was paying me an actual pittance. It was only when you came to Sunnybrook and started working at the bakery alongside me that I finally found the courage to tell her to stuff her job!’
Ellie laughs. ‘And I walked out with you in protest. God, remember that? It was such a brilliant feeling and we’ve never looked back. Madge’s place really went downhill after you stopped baking for her, Fen. But now we’ve got a chance to open a bakery that the villagers will love.’ Her eyes sparkle. ‘Our croissants are going to be so flaky and delicious, there’ll be a queue in the morning when I open up, and everyone is going to want their special birthday cake designed and made by The Little Duck Pond Café Bakery!’
‘It all sounds brilliant, Ellie.’ I love the way she’s including me in her plans for the bakery and I really want to be part of it. Although with the new café opening soon at Brambleberry Manor, my time here will probably be limited.
Ellie frowns, looking suddenly uncertain. ‘It’s all very well getting excited talking about it. I only hope I can actually deliver what I’m promising.’
I grin at her. ‘Hey, don’t worry, Ells, you will. Now isn’t the time for an attack of self-doubt. You’ve got so much passion for the idea, it can’t possibly not happen!’
‘Oh God, Fen, I hope you’re right.’
*****
It’s the day before New Year’s Eve and Ellie’s party, and Rob comes over to Brambleberry Manor in the morning.
Mum, Dad and my brother, Rich, are in London overnight at a Law Society dinner, so we’ve got the whole place to ourselves. I make pasta with a spicy tomato sauce and we eat it at the kitchen table, tearing off chunks of Rob’s favourite ciabatta bread, baked this morning and still warm from the oven.
Afterwards, I offer to take him on a tour of the grounds, so we get bundled up in coats and scarves and brave the gaspingly cold air outside.
Snow has been falling on and off since Christmas Eve, blanketing the parkland and turning it into a gorgeous winter wonderland that sparkles in the sun. Opening the main door, I breathe in the icy air and drink in the snowy scene before me. It’s at times like these that I feel so lucky to live in such an amazing place.
It’s all down to Mum’s vision and hard work that the manor house, which has been in her family for generations, will continue to be ours to pass on to future generations. Turning the place into a tourist attraction means that from now on, it will hopefully be able to pay its way.
Rob’s brought his green wellies and we go tramping about the grounds, the magic of the snow going to our heads and making us act like kids at Christmas. We build a funny, cross-looking snowman then have a vigorous snowball fight, which ends in us both rolling around in the snow, getting soaked. Then we nip into the brand new Brambleberry Café, which was once an old barn on the estate, but was transformed with Rob’s help into a modern, ultra-cosy café.
I gaze around me. ‘It’s all so gorgeous, Rob. I can’t believe Mum wants me to be in charge of the place when it opens.’
‘She’s a wise woman,’ he murmurs, bending to a chair leg and running his finger along the line of it.
I smile happily at him, loving the intense expression that comes over his face when he’s focused on his work.
And loving his faith in me.
Rob designed the interior and hand-crafted all the furniture, as well as the beautiful, hand-carved café sign outside the main door.
‘You’re quite gifted, really, aren’t you?’ I joke.
‘Oh, you’ve no idea, Fenella,’ he says, straightening up and whacking dust off his jeans. ‘My talents in these parts are legendary.’
He says it with a cheeky smile, laden with innuendo, and I can’t help blushing. Then he pulls me against him and kisses me hard, leaving me breathless, my head spinning crazily with desire. But just as I’m about to suggest we move indoors to make the most of having the place to ourselves, I feel him move slightly away from me. Then he puts his arms round me and draws me in for a hug, his chin resting lightly on my head, and I can feel his ragged breath on my neck. I lean against him, breathing in his musky male scent and feeling the effects in every part of my body. After a while, he releases me and kisses me on the nose.
He glances around the café. ‘Is the servery big enough, though?’
‘Sorry?’ Feeling a little dazed at the sudden change of mood, I watch him walk over there, admiring the breadth of his strong shoulders and his gorgeous bum in the well-fitting blue jeans.
He smoothes his hand along the polished cherry wood of the servery, with its space beneath for the glass case that will eventually display all the cakes and scones. ‘It needs to be functional as well as stylish.’
I swallow and pull myself together, catching my reflection in a nearby mirror and giving my dark hair a little flick or two. ‘It’s – erm – perfect as it is, Rob.’
Just like you!
‘Yeah? That’s great,’ he says, now firmly back in work mode.
He casts a critical eye over the hand-carved tables and chairs he created, which are grouped in a corner, all ready to be arranged for the café’s opening day in a few months’ time.
‘Everything’s wonderful, Rob. Honestly.’
He turns and smiles, crinkling his gorgeous green eyes at me.
And I smile back, thinking I’ve never felt so happy in my life . . .