CHAPTER TWO
After the performance, the three of us wrap up snugly and walk out into the freezing night.
Stars glitter overhead and a hard frost is already etched onto the pavement. Shivering and huddling into our coats, we join the crowds walking along Sunnybrook High Street, gazing at the colourful, winking fairy lights strung along the street as we head for Ellie’s Little Duck Pond Café.
It’s mid-November and Christmas has well and truly embraced the village of Sunnybrook, lifting hearts with its magic, like the feeling of waking to find it’s snowed overnight.
The air smells faintly of bonfires and cosy winter delights. And my heart lurches, thinking of the pantomime, which will start its run in a month’s time.
Tonight was a one-off performance of Pride & Prejudice, after its hugely successful run back in September. Next up for the amateur dramatics group is Cinderella, which they’ve already been rehearsing. I’ve always loved pantomimes, so this would be the perfect time for me to join the group myself.
If I were brave enough . . .
I think of Ethan’s warm smile when he suggested I should come along to a meeting and a delicious little shiver runs through me.
It’s just like the bit in An Impossible Dream, one of my favourite books, where the heroine, Nancy Loveday, an interior designer, is approached by ruggedly handsome Brett Savage to update his soft furnishings. Nancy has long had a crush on Brett and worries he’ll hate her plans for his apartment. But her courage is rewarded when they bond over a shared interest in dado rails and fall madly in love.
‘The play was wonderful.’ Ellie gives a little sigh of contentment.
Jaz murmurs her agreement. ‘Ethan Fox was definitely the star. I loved the way he strode around in his breeches, commanding the stage, and withering the idiotic Mr Collins with a single look.’
Ellie laughs. ‘All in the sexiest way possible, of course. The perfect Mr Darcy!’
Jaz nudges me. ‘You’re very quiet.’
‘I’m always quiet.’
‘Not with us you’re not,’ retorts Ellie, linking my arm. ‘So what did you think of Ethan’s performance tonight?’
My mouth goes dry.
I want to say I thought Ethan was utterly magnificent and his performance was truly Oscar worthy. But they’d obviously snort at the Oscar bit (even I know that would be a slight exaggeration) and they’d tease me about liking Ethan all the more.
‘I thought he was perfect in the role. As were the rest of the cast.’ I’m hoping I sound cool but the burning cheeks are a bit of a give-away.
I’ve always hated my blushes. You can’t have any secrets if you turn as red as a ripe tomato at anything that’s even mildly unsettling. When I was younger, I used to wear a weird green-coloured cream on my face that was supposed to hide the blushes. Then my latest crush commented loudly, in front of the whole class, that I always looked like Caspar the friendly ghost. So the tube of cream went in the bin.
Ellie lets us into the café and goes round switching on lamps and lighting a few candles. Then she heads for the coffee machine, shedding her coat and scarf as she goes and dumping them on the counter. ‘Okay, girls, may I introduce to you the brand new festive drinks menu? I’d like your verdict and if you want to tweak the recipes, please do.’
She holds up a blackboard framed with red tinsel and Jaz and I drool over the contents.
‘Ooh, the salted caramel hot chocolate sounds gorgeous,’ says Jaz. ‘I’d love to try that. What about you, Fen?’
Seriously, I’m in a quandary because they all sound amazing. ‘Peppermint white hot chocolate. I love mint. Or maybe the gingerbread hot cocoa with whipped cream? Ooh, no, sorry to be boring, but it has to be the salted caramel hot chocolate for me, too.’
‘Can we help?’ asks Jaz, as Ellie gets to work behind the counter.
‘No, this is my treat. Just make yourselves comfortable and I’ll bring them over.’
Jaz and I sit down at our favourite table in the corner near the counter, hooking our coats and scarves over the backs of our chairs. It’s below freezing outside. But it’s so wonderfully warm and snug and Christmassy in the café with the soft glow of fairy lights strung around the room, and candles flickering on the tables.
Jaz heaves a sigh. ‘I’m going to be up well past midnight and I’m knackered already. Maybe I should have opted for a full strength coffee instead.’
‘At this time of night?’ Ellie glances over.
Jaz shrugs. ‘When Harry gets back from an evening job, he stays up watching films till all hours while he winds down. So if I want to spend some time with him, it means I have to do the same.’ She picks up a magazine from a nearby rack and starts leafing through it.
‘How does Harry manage work next morning if he’s up till all hours?’ I ask, curiously. Jaz herself is a morning person and is generally up early – especially at weekends when she works as a tour guide at Brambleberry Manor and on days when she’s leading an early morning zumba class in the Little Duck Pond Café’s new studio.
She frowns. ‘It’s a hang-over from Harry’s old bachelor days. He tries to organise his jobs for the afternoons and evenings so he doesn’t have to get up early. I suppose that’s one of the advantages of being a self-employed photographer. But it’s hardly a very business-like way of working.’
‘So Harry’s staying over at yours tonight when he gets back?’ grins Ellie.
‘Yeah. That’s the plan.’ She looks less than enthusiastic. ‘Honestly, I’ll be sleep-walking, teaching my zumba class at eight tomorrow morning!’
I grin. ‘So will you greet him at the door wearing nothing but a smile and a rose between your teeth?’
She laughs. ‘Fleecy nightie and a toothbrush more likely. That racy stuff only goes on in those torrid romances you read, Fen.’
‘I don’t read them any more,’ I say, a blush creeping up my neck.
‘No?’ Ellie brings over a tray of drinks. ‘So what’s that in your bag?’
She points and my cheeks have a major flare-up. ‘Well, I do sometimes.’
I don’t know why, but I feel slightly ashamed of my passion for reading romance novels. I suppose it’s because deep down, I know I should be out there, experiencing the highs and lows of love for myself, instead of retreating into my safe fantasy world and reading about them instead.
‘Hey, what’s this?’ asks Jaz, holding up the magazine, a copy of a new publication called Bake! It’s open at a double page spread with a square cut out of it.
‘Oh, that?’ Ellie puts down the tray but doesn’t unload it, walking quickly back to the counter instead. ‘No idea.’
‘Someone must have entered the magazine’s baking competition,’ says Jaz. ‘They’ve cut the details out.’
I glance across at Ellie. She has her back to us, crouching to rummage in a cupboard for something, and the penny suddenly drops.
So it was Ellie!
It all makes sense now.
A month or so ago, I received a strange email, apparently from Bake! magazine, informing me that they were happy to announce that I’d made it through to the regional heats, which would take place in Guildford in January.
Thinking it must be a mistake, I hadn’t even bothered to reply. But then a week ago, I received another communication from them - a letter this time - repeating the weird invitation. My heart did a little skitter of excitement when I realised it actually might be real.
Baking is my absolute passion and to be recognised in this way by such a popular publication would be amazing.
Then I thought of what it would involve and I fell back to earth with a crash.
Going up to Guildford and competing with other bakers – all total strangers – made me feel sick with nerves. So I just tried to forget about it . . .
I could be annoyed at Ellie for applying on my behalf without even telling me. But I’m not. Ellie is the best friend I’ve ever had and I know that in deciding to do this, she would only be thinking of me. She makes no secret of the fact that she thinks my baking is second to none and that I’m far too modest for my own good. (As my friend, she’s obviously completely biased.)
I’d love to ask her about it and find out what baking samples she submitted in my name. I hope it was my Moist Chocolate Cake because most people seem to like that.
But I stay silent on the subject.
If I mention it, both Ellie and Jaz will try to persuade me I need to take part – and I’m definitely not brave enough for that!
‘I wonder if any of the cast will call in?’ says Jaz.
‘Ooh, speaking of which!’ Ellie waves through the window and goes to the door and my heart starts to pound.
‘Hi, there! Great production tonight,’ she calls, ushering the little group inside. Ethan appears, the only guy among the party of four, and my heart gives a giant thump.
‘Take a seat,’ Ellie is saying. ‘We don’t have a license yet so I can’t offer you alcohol but I’m trialling some festive hot drinks if you’d like to sample them?’ They sit down at the next table to us, and Ellie props the blackboard menu on the counter.
Jaz starts chatting about the play and I smile shyly at everyone. When my glance lands on Ethan, he’s smiling at me, his gorgeous dark brown eyes all crinkled at the corners, and I quickly drop my gaze, feeling ridiculously self-conscious.
It’s like I’m fifteen again, crushing over some boy at school!
I scurry behind the counter to help Ellie with the drinks.
Karen, who plays Jane Bennett in the play, glances around her. ‘Hey, this place is gorgeous!’ Her dark hair, which I know is a wig, is piled up elaborately and decorated with pearls. I’ve met her before briefly and her real hair was short, spiky and pink.
Ellie goes over with a notepad and returns with their order.
From my position behind the counter, I keep darting little glances over at Ethan. He still has his stage make-up on, and he even looks gorgeous wearing eyeliner and shadow. In fact, it rather suits him. Although to be honest, I’d probably find him attractive in swimming goggles and a Santa beard.
Ellie takes over a plate of festive goodies and announces, to murmurs of pleasure, ‘Chocolate caramel marshmallow, Christmas rocky road and mince pies.’
Ethan is chatting to Jaz about the am dram group’s rehearsals for the panto and suddenly he glances over at me. I freeze as our eyes collide and pretend I was looking out at the café in general, checking all the tables have bowls with little tubes of sugar on them. When I glance casually back at him, he’s studying me with a faint smile on his lips - still talking about the panto - and my heart does a gigantic leap in my chest. I only hope he doesn’t mention me joining the group in front of all these people.
‘Gorgeous mince pies,’ says Julia, who was Elizabeth Bennet in the play. ‘The pastry is so buttery and melt-in-the-mouth.’ She waves one in the air and takes another bite.
‘Made by Fen here,’ calls Ellie, and I blush to the roots of my hair when everyone turns to look at me.
It’s like when Mum starts chatting proudly about my brother Richard’s achievements to her friends when we’re actually in the room. I always cringe for him, although to be fair, he doesn’t seem to mind. He just laughs and says bragging about your kid is probably one of the main perks of having children in the first place, and if it gives Mum pleasure, it’s fine by him.
I really admire Rich. He’s a clever, confident, gregarious sort of person and very ambitious.
The total opposite of me, really.
‘Did you make the rocky road as well, Fen?’ asks Ethan.
I swallow. ‘Yes. It’s – erm – quite an easy recipe to do, actually. Everything goes in the bowl together and it doesn’t even have to be baked.’
‘Well, it’s delicious.’
‘I – I could give you the recipe if you like.’
He smiles. ‘Thank you. I’d like that.’
‘Ooh, I’m not sure you should be giving away your trade secrets, Fen,’ jokes Ellie, and everyone laughs.
I stand there awkwardly, trying to join in the merriment. Why do I always end up blurting out something entirely inappropriate? Now Ethan will think I’m a total plonker.
He was probably just being kind, saying he’d like the recipe. But at least he didn’t laugh when I offered it.
I make myself useful behind the counter, cleaning the coffee machine and the counter, letting Ellie and Jaz chat to the visitors. I’m tuned in to Ethan’s voice, though, and at one point I hear him say, ‘Alicia and I have been over for a while. There’s only so many times you can give it another go before you’re forced to admit you weren’t right for each other in the first place.’
‘Wow, so Mr Darcy is footloose and fancy free?’ says Ellie, laughing, and the cleaning fluid bottle slips out of my hand, landing on the floor with a crash.
Everyone turns and I duck down to pick it up.
I’d heard rumours about Ethan and Alicia being in a long-term relationship. But now he’s saying it’s all over between them and has been for a while.
‘Lock up your daughters, Sunnybrook,’ giggles Karen.
‘Hey, watch what you’re saying about me.’ Ethan sounds indignant, although when I risk a glance in his direction, he’s actually smiling. ‘Unlike some of the acting fraternity, I’m not actually into quick meaningless flings. Believe it or not, I actually feel like I’m ready to settle down.’
A chorus of ‘oohs’ goes up and Ethan laughs and holds up his hands, looking a little sheepish. ‘I know it’s not exactly a cool thing to say but it’s true. Just call me an old-fashioned romantic!’ He pats his pockets and frowns. ‘An old-fashioned romantic who’s stupidly forgotten he left his credit cards in the car back at the village hall.’ He groans. ‘Damn, this was supposed to be my treat.’
He looks so crestfallen, my heart goes out to him.
‘I’ll get them,’ I blurt out.
He glances over. ‘Really? No, I couldn’t let you do that, Fen.’
‘Honestly it’s fine.’
He frowns. ‘Well . . . if you’re sure?’
‘You can just call in and pay some other time if you like,’ says Ellie. She grins. ‘I’m sure I can trust you.’
But I’m already at the till, putting the money in. ‘No problem. All sorted.’ I have an ulterior motive. I’ll see Ethan again when he comes in to pay me back!
They all leave just before midnight.
Ethan doubles back and I glance at the table where he was sitting, thinking he must have forgotten something. But he comes over to the counter. ‘Thanks for coming to the rescue. I’ll pop in tomorrow with the cash. And I meant it about the rocky road. I’d really like that recipe.’ His handsome face breaks into a huge smile that makes my insides flip. ‘And by the way, there’s a panto meeting in the village hall on Sunday at two o’clock. Maybe I’ll see you there?’
He winks. And then he’s gone.