As the nights began to draw in more quickly and the coats hanging on the hooks in The Cider Kitchen’s cloakroom grew thicker and longer, Caroline made the final preparations for the Halloween theme night. When the evening actually rolled round, Caroline glanced around the restaurant, half in despair half in amusement. Strands of fake spiders’ web were twined around the light fittings, the tables had been topped with black sparkly napkins, and carved pumpkins, soon to be filled with tea lights, seemed to line every flat surface.
‘I can’t believe I ever thought this was a good idea,’ Caroline muttered. ‘I hate Halloween, usually.’ She’d spent too many Halloween nights overseeing hospitality events and memories of excess in all ways were ones she didn’t wish to revisit any time soon, especially when the scariest thing in her life at the time had been someone very, very human. Someone who, since that unnerving note and packet of powder in early October, Caroline hadn’t been able to put out of her mind. But she didn’t want to burden the increasingly heavily pregnant Anna with these thoughts. Anna had popped in after closing up the tea shop to see how things were going and had been roped in to help Caroline lay a few tables, as Meredith had gone down with the flu the day before and couldn’t do her evening shift. The teenager had been characteristically upset about both missing work and the Halloween event, but it couldn’t be helped.
Anna laughed. ‘You’re the one who said it’d be good for business. And Matthew and Jonathan have been dying to try out their new Wookey Witch Cider Punch on the public. If it takes off, they’ll be marketing it nationally this time next year.’
‘Yup, my customers are going to be guinea pigs, as well as in for a fright.’ Caroline grimaced down into the cutlery tray behind the bar. ‘As if Gino’s Halloween menu wasn’t weird enough, Jonathan told me I’d have to take on some experimental hooch as well.’
‘They do sort of know what they’re doing when it comes to cider making,’ Anna chided gently. ‘They’ve been at it a while.’
‘I know, I know, a hundred years of heritage and history all rolled up into two delectable Somerset sons,’ Caroline teased, feeling her mood lift marginally.
‘Delectable?’ Anna raised an eyebrow. Caroline had filled Anna in on the debacle with the fox hounds over the washing up after Sunday lunch at Cowslip Barn and only then when she was sure Matthew was out of earshot. As lovely as Matthew was, Caroline didn’t fancy being chewed out by him as well as Jonathan over the incident, and she didn’t know whether Jonathan had told his brother about the restaurant’s near miss or not.
‘No comment. He’s been hanging around after hours again, pretending to play the piano and generally making a nuisance of himself.’
‘Really?’ Anna replied. ‘Well, if it’s any help, Matthew says he can’t ever remember seeing Jonathan spending quite so much time with a woman and not breaking her heart, so I take it that’s a positive sign.’
‘Don’t get any ideas,’ Caroline said. ‘We’re keeping it strictly business. I really don’t need any complications right now.’
‘I hope Jonathan knows that. He can be quite persuasive at times.’
‘If he doesn’t, he’d better get clued up pretty quickly. I’m not likely to be playing his damsel in distress tonight or any night soon.’
‘Methinks the lady doth protest too much,’ Anna smiled.
‘Give it up,’ Caroline smirked. ‘I’m not becoming your sister-in-law again, and that’s that.’
Anna threw up her hands. ‘OK, OK, but you should take it as a compliment really. Now where did you want these glasses?’
*
A couple of hours later, and The Cider Kitchen was starting to fill up with people. Caroline looked across to the bar, where one of the serving staff was pouring the rather alarmingly orange Wookey Witch cider punch and another was offering round a variety of ghoulishly coloured and shaped canapés. In roughly ten minutes or so, everyone would be seated, and the challenge would be to get the starters out on time. She was one server down, but so far the staff were coping admirably. She’d refused to go all out in terms of costume, but she had conceded on a long, figure hugging black dress and an equally long, black costume wig. Although rather shorter than Morticia Adams, and definitely more curvaceous, she was pleased with the effect.
I wonder what Jonathan would make of it, she thought. He hadn’t even confirmed he was coming tonight, so she had to put him out of her mind and focus on her customers. Smiling gamely, she strode across the restaurant, greeting people as she went and taking her position as front of house. She wasn’t expecting to shut up shop before midnight, and there were plenty of tricks and treats to organise, including a close up magician.
*
The evening flew by with the help of the magician and her serving team, who seemed to have wings attached to their heels. The Halloween theme had created a relaxed atmosphere, and Caroline even went so far as to relax a little herself when the dining was done and some of the tables were pushed back to create a makeshift dance floor in the middle of the restaurant. Soon, the guests, well fed and very well watered, were bopping away to the cheesiest of Halloween hits, which had been prepared on an iTunes playlist by Gino and Emma a few nights ago. Alongside the old classics such as ‘Thriller’ and ‘Bump in the Night’ were a couple of newer tunes, including ‘I’m In Love With A Monster’ from Hotel Transylvania 2, which Caroline remembered from the night she’d babysat Ellie.
Jonathan hadn’t shown tonight. Not that she’d wanted him to, of course; she was quite relieved he’d stayed away. Although, oddly, she knew he wasn’t one to miss a party, so she’d been quite surprised that he hadn’t come along. Perhaps he’d had a better offer?
Eventually, as the last customers left and she and the team were beginning to clear up, Caroline’s tiredness overwhelmed her. Her feet hurt from the high heels she’d put on with the dress and the long dark wig was far too hot. She’d have whipped it off her head but her vanity stopped her; she couldn’t stand to let her team see her with what would undoubtedly be a sweaty, carroty mess underneath the wig.
‘Are we all done?’ she asked Izzy as the teenager wiped the last table.
‘I think so,’ Izzy replied. ‘Do you want me to check the bar?’
‘No, it’s all right,’ Caroline said, making one concession and stepping out of her high heels. ‘You get off home.’
‘Thanks,’ Izzy took off her apron, which she was wearing over a short, sparkly black dress covered in glittering silver spiders’ webs, and took it out to the kitchen. Caroline heard the girl saying goodnight to Gino and Emma and then the back door of the restaurant closing behind her.
A short time later, Gino and Emma came through to the bar as Caroline was cashing up. ‘Not a bad night,’ Gino said as he took off his chef’s cap and ruffled his hair back into some kind of shape.
‘It went really well,’ Caroline said. ‘I’ve heard nothing but praise for your skills all evening, both of you.’ Her two young chefs looked utterly done in and Caroline felt a stab of sympathy. ‘Make sure you both get home to bed, now.’
‘Nah,’ Gino said, tired eyes suddenly alight. ‘I can’t go to bed just like that after a busy evening. Got to unwind a bit first. I’m meeting a few mates in Weston. Fancy it, Emma?’
‘No thanks,’ Emma replied. ‘I’ve said I’ll help Dad out with the stock take in the pub tomorrow so I’d better get home.’
‘Take care,’ Caroline said as they both left the restaurant. She dithered over making herself a cup of coffee while she totalled the till, but decided against it. She was shattered, too, and the coffee would only keep her awake. Heading back to the cash desk, she was just printing out the till receipt when she heard the front door of the restaurant opening again. Caroline’s heart thudded painfully in her chest and she cursed inwardly for forgetting to lock the doors before beginning to cash up. What if the writer of the note was paying her another visit? Steeling herself, she looked up from the receipt.
‘That is a very disturbing dress,’ the voice, low with amusement, came from the doorway.
Caroline breathed out again. How did Jonathan do that, slinking in like the Cheshire Cat with that indolent tone and lazy, seductive grin?
‘We’re closed,’ she said. She’d lost her place on the receipt again.
‘I’m not buying.’
‘Then I’ll have to ask you to vacate the premises, sir.’ Giving up on the takings, she shoved the receipt in the drawer of the till and resolved to check it in the morning.
‘I’m on my way home,’ Jonathan said. ‘Just thought I’d make sure no food critics had sneaked in again.’
‘No, I’m all on my lonesome,’ Caroline replied, finally turning around. ‘Except for a cider farmer who’s about to be slapped with a restraining order if he doesn’t leave soon.’ As she met Jonathan’s appraising gaze she felt herself growing warmer. The black dress did interesting things to her cleavage, and she was suddenly aware of her breasts rising up as her breathing grew shallower at the sight of him.
‘What? No late night coffee?’ Jonathan approached her, his steps lazy and self-assured. ‘I thought I’d offer to make it if you’ll let me near the coffee machine.’
Caroline looked appraisingly at Jonathan. He was wearing a longline midnight blue velvet jacket, underneath which was a vintage cream silk shirt tucked into dark trousers. The look was retro, sexy, and distinctively over the top.
‘Been somewhere?’ Caroline asked.
‘Out to another Halloween party with a friend,’ Jonathan replied. ‘A longstanding engagement, arranged before this came up. Kind of a birthday treat, too.’
‘Whose birthday?’ Caroline asked.
‘Mine.’ Jonathan replied. He gave a slightly self-conscious smile. ‘Didn’t want to make a big thing of it. When this party invitation came up, I thought it would be a good distraction.’
‘Well, happy birthday! Don’t tell me you’re angsting about getting older?’ Caroline couldn’t help smirking. The thought of Jonathan worrying about laughter lines and middle aged spread was too good a one to ignore, particularly when he didn’t have a trace of either.
‘Not overly,’ Jonathan replied. ‘But it does make you start to question your life choices.’ He grimaced. ‘Meredith sent me the rudest card, too. That girl needs a clip round the ear.’
‘She didn’t mention it was your birthday,’ Caroline said, vaguely irritated that it hadn’t been on her radar. Whatever her ambivalence about Jonathan, she’d have liked to at least have known that it was his birthday, if only to tease him with it. She wondered why Anna hadn’t mentioned it either. The Carters weren’t the kind of family to let an excuse for a celebration go.
‘I’ve never really been one for celebrating my birthday,’ Jonathan said, as if reading her mind. ‘Especially being born on Halloween – seems churlish to bring it up when everyone’s preoccupied with their pumpkins.’ He flicked a non-existent speck of dust from the sleeve of his jacket. ‘And the family were under strict instructions to let it pass without event, too.’
‘I’m stunned that Meredith would let you get away with that,’ Caroline said. ‘I know the fun she had arranging Matthew and Anna’s wedding.’
Jonathan smiled. ‘I told her I’d get you to dock her wages if she breathed a word.’
Caroline laughed. ‘Well, she didn’t, so I guess I can keep paying her the going rate!’ She reached behind her head and lifted the black wig off her neck for a second. It really was a most uncomfortable thing. ‘So, was it a good night? This party of yours?’
‘Not bad. Although, had I known what you were planning on wearing, I’d have skipped it in a heartbeat and booked a table here instead.’ His gaze drifted from Caroline’s face and down her body.
‘Save it for someone it works on,’ Caroline said. ‘You know we agreed not to mix business with pleasure.’ She flushed, but was astonished to find herself moving a little closer to Jonathan, as if her feet had a mind of their own. Once she no longer had the bar between them as a barrier, she felt strangely exposed in her figure hugging black dress. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, and before alarm bells kicked in warning her to keep Jonathan at arms’ length, she found herself imagining what it would be like to have him take it off her. Her hand drifted up Jonathan’s velvet clad arm and stroked the soft fabric beneath her fingers. ‘This looks expensive,’ she remarked.
‘If you keep doing that, it was worth every penny.’ Jonathan picked up a stray wineglass that hadn’t been spotted by the service team and set it down on the bar. Then he drew closer to her and lazily reached out a hand to stroke her rapidly flushing cheek.
‘Don’t,’ Caroline murmured, even as her eyes grew wider. ‘It’s not fair, Jonathan.’
‘What’s not fair?’ His tone was gentle and his breath whispered past her, making her shiver. ‘You wearing that utterly illegally sexy dress and charming everyone except me… that’s what’s not fair.’
Caroline’s knees shuddered and she was a heartbeat away from pulling Jonathan closer and dragging him back upstairs to her flat. Her lips parted, and, as Jonathan’s fingertips brushed over them, down her throat and traced lightly across the swell of her cleavage, his touch seemed to burn.
‘You don’t mean that,’ she said softly. ‘You can’t.’
‘Can’t I?’ Jonathan’s voice had a low, lazy warmth that could melt chocolate. He dipped his head, and as his lips drew closer to hers, Caroline was suddenly aware of a vibration coming from the inside pocket of Jonathan’s beautiful jacket. Without missing a beat, Jonathan pulled the phone out with his other hand, glanced at the screen and smirked. He didn’t answer the call.
It was enough to bring Caroline to her senses. ‘Was that your date from tonight?’ the throb of her own frustration was beating in her voice.
‘Yes, as a matter of fact,’ Jonathan replied.
‘Well, you’d better go and call her back,’ Caroline replied. ‘Because you’re getting nothing more from me tonight. Or ever.’
Jonathan held up his hands. ‘So be it.’ He kept grinning. ‘It’s a shame, though. If you’d just let yourself go a little, we could have made a great night of it.’
‘Oh, bugger off!’ Caroline snapped. ‘Go and warm someone else’s bed.’
Still grinning, Jonathan sauntered out of the door.
Snatching the wig from her head in irritation, she dumped it down on the nearest chair and ran an impatient hand through her hair, trying to revive it.
Just as she was about to lock up and head upstairs, her own mobile phone pinged. She’d left it beside the till for most of the evening as her dress, naturally, didn’t have any pockets and she couldn’t exactly shove it down her bra. She had toyed with the idea of strapping it, Lara Croft style, to her thigh, but dismissed this as too ridiculous. Grabbing the phone, she swiped the screen and frowned as she saw the text message notification from an unfamiliar number. Without thinking, she tapped it, and then her heart froze. The message contained no actual text at all; but what it did show, despite the low light and the fuzziness of the image, was her, still wearing the Morticia Adams wig, face turned towards a man who had his back to the camera; a man in a midnight blue jacket. Clearly it had been taken moments ago, just before Jonathan had left, and as Caroline’s hands started to shake; she was in no doubt who had taken it. Frozen to the spot, heart thumping, skin crawling, she shivered. If the note and the packet of white powder had been a warning, this photo felt like a threat. There was no doubt about it. He was watching her. Worse, he was outside in the dark. Once again, she wished she hadn’t sent Jonathan on his way so smartly. She suddenly felt more isolated than she ever had before.
Swiftly, she ran to the front door of the restaurant, locked and bolted it and then hurried upstairs to her flat. Thankfully, she’d insisted on a Yale lock on the door to her living quarters, too, to give her some sense of separation, and she slammed the door, dropping the lock instantly. As she sank back against the inside of the door, so many questions ran through her head. Was he still outside? Did he plan on coming in? Should she call the police (or, she thought fleetingly, Jonathan?). What the hell was she going to do?