Cupcakes for Christmas: The most uplifting and unmissable feel good love story of Christmas 2018! (Return to Willoughby Close)

by Kate Hewitt

  “Oh, that, yes. That was the iron.”

  Olivia looked at the still-red mark, her stomach and mind both churning. When had her mother burned herself? And why hadn’t she told Olivia? Of course, her mum didn’t mention every little thing that happened, but the burn still looked painful and two burns in the course of a few days…

  “Right, well, let’s get you cleaned up,” the nurse said briskly. Olivia watched, her mind still spinning, as the nurse cleaned and bandaged the burn. “Best if you see your GP in twenty-four hours to have it looked at and the dressing changed, all right, love?” She paused, her gaze moving to Olivia. “I’ll just have the consultant come in for a moment so you can have a chat.”

  “We don’t need to chat,” Tina began in protest, but the nurse had already left the cubicle with a rattle of the curtain rings.

  “It’s fine, Mum,” Olivia said, trying to sound upbeat. “The doctor most likely just wants to check you’re all right.”

  “I know I’m all right,” Tina said irritably. “Honestly, such a fuss.” She half-rose from her chair. “Let’s just go home, Olivia. I really want to go home.”

  “Mum.” As gently as she could, Olivia put her hand on her mother’s shoulder and steered her back into the chair. “Let’s just wait and see what he says, okay? You want the best care.”

  Tina continued to fret, and Olivia’s own agitation grew as they waited another twenty minutes for the consultant on call to come in. Finally he did, looking far too young and cheerful.

  “Hello, there.” He scanned Tina’s notes quickly before sitting in front of her with a kindly smile. “The nurse has suggested you be referred to your GP for a few tests.”

  “Tests? I’ve burned myself,” Tina retorted, sounding far bolshier than Olivia had ever heard her sound before. “What kind of tests do I need?”

  The doctor’s eyes were kind as he answered steadily, “The nurse suggested it might be advisable that you have a cognitive test. It’s a simple one, done at the GP’s, and it only takes five minutes.” He glanced at Olivia. “If you ring tomorrow, you might get an early appointment or a cancellation.”

  “Tomorrow…” Olivia’s mind spun and spun. A cognitive test? What was the doctor saying? She glanced at her mother, whose irritation had vanished; she now seemed to be sinking into herself, her head and gaze both lowered.

  “All right, then,” she said quietly, and panic seized Olivia, a visceral clawing of her insides. Her mother looked almost as if she’d given up, and Olivia wasn’t even sure what was going on.

  She wanted to ask the doctor about the cognitive test and what it meant, but she was also afraid to. Finally she found the words. “What is this cognitive test?” she asked shakily. “What would it be testing for?”

  “It’s an early assessment to check for memory loss and signs of dementia,” he answered and Olivia nearly staggered. Dementia…?

  “But my mother burned herself, she didn’t…” She trailed off, remembering how Tina had mistaken the cause of the burn, and a dozen other details besides. How fretful she’d seemed. How she didn’t want to go out. How she’d lost interest in so many things she’d once loved—the shop, baking, bridge, even Christmas.

  The doctor must have seen the dawning terror in her eyes for he said gently, “It’s just a test. A check. Your GP can take it from there and who knows, it may be nothing. But it’s important to rule things out.”

  Or rule things in? Olivia murmured something in agreement, and then she was helping her mum into her coat and they were walking into the brightly lit waiting room, Simon rising expectantly as they approached him, but Olivia felt too dazed to say anything.

  “Everything all right?” he asked brightly and it took her a few seconds to respond.

  “Yes…the burn is bandaged. We need to go to the GP tomorrow to have the dressing checked.”

  “I don’t—” Tina began, but Olivia shook her head firmly.

  “No, Mum. You do.”

  Simon was kind enough to drop Tina off at her flat, and then wait while Olivia saw her inside, making her a cup of tea and then settling her in bed before she left.

  “I don’t want you to worry, Olivia,” Tina said just as she was about to bid her good night. Olivia paused, one hand on the bedroom door.

  “Of course I’ll worry, Mum,” she said. “I love you. I want you to be well.”

  Tina shook her head. “It would be different if you were married and had your own family,” she said, making Olivia flinch a little. “But you’re all alone. It’s not right for you to have to bear the burden of—of taking care of me.”

  “You did the same for me,” Olivia reminded her rather fiercely. “For all my life. And it hasn’t come to that yet, Mum. It’s just a test.”

  Tina smiled sadly and Olivia was jolted to her core. The look in her mum’s eyes said as plainly as could be that she knew what the result of the test was going to be.

  Back in the car Olivia slid into the passenger seat, her body and heart both aching. It was nearly ten o’clock, and Simon had been waiting in the car for almost an hour.

  “I’m sorry about that,” she said dully. “I didn’t realise how long I was taking.”

  “It’s no problem.” He started the car and then pulled out into the dark, empty street. Olivia leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes, fighting a fear and grief that felt as if it could overwhelm her. “Do you want to talk about it?” Simon asked quietly, making her jerk a little bit.

  “Talk about it? Do you know…?”

  “I don’t know anything, only that something seems to be going on that’s more than an accident at the stove.” He paused. “But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I really don’t mean to pry.”

  “I know. Thanks.” She took a shuddering breath, wanting someone to confide in, but unsure whether it should be Simon. I barely know him seemed to be her constant refrain, and yet he was the one who had been there when her mum had had her accident, and he’d been the one to drive them to the hospital and wait while she was seen.

  “The doctor referred her to the GP for a cognitive test,” she blurted. It almost felt like a relief to say it somehow, to share it. “I have to ring tomorrow.”

  “A cognitive test.” Simon repeated the words neutrally.

  “Yes.” While her mum had been in the loo Olivia had searched on her phone and scrolled through the ten warning signs of dementia, her heart plummeting with each one. Difficulty completing normal tasks…confusion…apathy…changes in mood…difficulty with spatial orientation, which can result in seeming clumsiness…and accidents. Burns. Olivia swallowed hard. “It’s a test for dementia,” she clarified, and Simon nodded.

  “Yes.”

  “I think I was afraid of something like this ever since she burned herself,” Olivia admitted. “All evening, while we were waiting, I felt this panic that didn’t make sense if it really was just a burn. But of course it isn’t.”

  “You don’t know that…”

  “No, but I think she does. The look on her face…” Olivia shook her head, her throat closing up. She didn’t want to lose it in front of Simon. They hadn’t even gone on their date yet.

  “I’m sorry, Olivia,” he said, his voice so heartfelt it made her eyes sting. “I really am sorry.”

  “Thank you.”

  They didn’t talk for the rest of the journey back to Wychwood-on-Lea, which was a relief. Simon parked in front of Tea on the Lea, and when Olivia turned to bid him farewell, as well as a huge thank you, he gave her a lopsided smile.

  “I’ll see you to the door.”

  She fumbled with the key, feeling both awkward in Simon’s presence and yet desperately not wanting to be alone. As she stepped into the shop Dr Jekyll let out a yowl and jumped into her arms, making Olivia let out a screech of surprise even as she instinctively clasped him to her chest. She stumbled back into Simon, who steadied her, his hands warm and solid on her shoulders. Her back collided with his chest.


  “Sorry…” she mumbled, embarrassed and off balance, her arms full of aggrieved feline. “He hasn’t been fed, poor cat.” Dr Jekyll deigned to show his displeasure by digging his claws deep into Olivia’s arms and she let out a little yelp.

  “Sorry,” she said again as she stepped away from Simon. “He’s a bit of a crazy cat.” Which was an understatement. “He’s called Dr Jekyll.”

  “Ah. The name says it all, really.”

  “Yes. I’d better get him some food.” She moved towards the stairs in the back of the shop that led up to her flat, realising belatedly that Simon hadn’t actually left. She turned around and he gave her an awkward smile.

  “Sorry, I’ll go. I just wanted to make sure you were okay on your own.”

  “Ye-es…” Olivia began, but to her mortification, her voice wobbled all over the place and ended on something that sounded alarmingly close to a sob.

  “Oh, Olivia.” With his face full of sympathy, Simon walked towards her and then put his arms around her, cat and all. Dr Jekyll let out an indignant yowl and jumped out of her arms, leaving Olivia free to put her arms around Simon, which she realised she very much wanted to do.

  There was nothing romantic about their hug; it was a gesture solely of comfort and compassion, understanding and sympathy, and Olivia needed it very, very much.

  She breathed in the scent of Simon—frosty air and wool scarf, a hint of lemony aftershave. She closed her eyes, savouring the feel of his arms around her, his body next to hers. When had she last been hugged properly, not just a quick side-arm or excited squeeze by one of her friends? She couldn’t even remember, but she knew now that she’d missed it. A lot.

  Eventually, though, she knew she had to break the hug; Dr Jekyll made that obvious when he wound his way between their legs, yowling plaintively.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, stepping back from Simon’s embrace. She wasn’t quite sure what she was saying sorry for. The cat? The hug? The whole evening? Or just the fact that she was clearly on the verge of losing it completely?

  “It’s okay, Olivia.” Simon’s voice was gentle. “It’s fine.”

  She drew in a shuddery breath. “It’s just…it’s always been my mum and me,” she said, trying to explain why this was affecting her so deeply. “We’ve been a team since…well, since forever.” Another shuddery breath; saying even this much was harder than she’d thought. “I can’t imagine it any way else.” And yet she knew in her heart, in her very bones, that it had already changed without her realising it. Already her mum wasn’t the same. They weren’t the same. “That’s why it’s so hard,” she finished. “But thank you for taking us to the hospital, and waiting while I settled my mum. I really appreciate it.”

  “You don’t have to keep thanking me.” Simon smiled wryly, a touch of sadness lingering in his eyes. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  No, she wasn’t okay, but she couldn’t ask any more of Simon now. “I’ll be okay,” she said. “I’ll ring the doctor tomorrow.”

  He hesitated, looking uncertain. “Of course, you don’t have to come out for a drink tomorrow night, considering…”

  She’d completely forgotten about their would-be date. She felt as if they were in a whole other place now after this evening. “No, I’d like to go. It will be nice to do something different.” She tried to smile. “If you’re still up for it, that is.”

  “I am.”

  “Okay, then. The Three Pennies at seven?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  They gazed at each other for a moment, the silence that stretched between them feeling both comfortable and strange, as if they were communicating something without words.

  “I’d better head off, then,” Simon said, and turned towards the door. “See you tomorrow, Olivia.”

  “Yes, see you tomorrow.” She waited until he’d disappeared down the street, into the darkness, before she locked the door and turned off the lights, heading upstairs to her flat with Dr Jekyll hard on her heels, eager for his dinner.

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning Olivia rang the local GP, muttering a prayer of thanks under her breath when a last-minute cancellation meant her mother could be seen later that morning. She rang Harriet next, asking her to cover the shop for an hour or two, something she’d done on occasion in the past, when it couldn’t be avoided.

  Olivia had never liked asking favours from people; perhaps it stemmed from her childhood, when she and her mum had been their own secure, and somewhat isolated, unit. Mum had always been proud not to need anyone else, even though she’d loved providing baking and a listening ear to whoever came her way. It was a one-sided offer, to be the listener and sympathiser rather than the listened to, the one who needed a bit of compassion, and Olivia had inherited that tendency, the drive for self-sufficiency and security. Better to be needed than to need.

  Thankfully Harriet had been quick to agree, and she strolled into the shop at quarter to eleven, looking worried.

  “Is everything okay, Olivia? What’s up with your mum?”

  “Just a burn that needs checking.” Olivia didn’t want to go into the cognitive testing bit just yet; it felt like a betrayal of her mother, and it wasn’t really her news to share. “Thanks for helping out.”

  “Of course, I’m delighted to. I would more often if you wanted me to.”

  “I know.” Olivia gave her a rather guilty smile, knowing it was her emotional issue that kept her from leaning on her friends more. Harriet glanced around the shop.

  “This place really does look fab, so Christmassy. I love the mistletoe.” She glanced at the cake stand in the front window. “What’s the cupcake for today, then?”

  “Raspberry cheesecake.” Which might have been a bit more miss than hit, but Olivia was trying for a wide variety of flavours.

  “It looks delicious. Are those crystallised raspberries on top?”

  “Yes, and a bit of red glitter to make it that much more festive.”

  “You do such an amazing job.” Harriet looked at her seriously. “You deserve massive success, Olivia.”

  “Thanks.” Whether she would get it or not was another matter, but for once Olivia didn’t have financial worries in the back of her mind. The cupcakes had been picking up, and staying open for the tree-lighting ceremony had been a definite plus. She’d had more inquiries about the evening do she was planning next week, as well. In any case, it was her mother she was worried about today.

  “And what about Cupcake Man?” Harriet asked. “Has he come in again?”

  Olivia rolled her eyes, simply because the question was so lovably predictable. Ellie had texted her about “Cupcake Man” that morning, and Ava had asked her about him when she’d picked up a coffee and muffin before jetting off to work. Olivia hadn’t told either of them about her drink with Simon, mainly because she didn’t want to make it into a bigger deal than it actually was. Now, under Harriet’s beady eye, she found she couldn’t quite dissemble.

  “Actually, he has a name, and we’re going out for a drink tonight.”

  “Oh, wow!” Harriet clapped her hands, genuinely delighted. “So what is his name, out of interest?”

  Olivia hesitated for a second, uncertain whether to unleash her friends’ inquisitiveness on her fledgling love life. “Simon Blacklock.”

  “Simon…” A funny look came over Harriet’s face, making Olivia’s fragile hopes start to waver.

  “Why are you looking like that?”

  “Like what?” Harriet blustered, and Olivia pursed her lips.

  “Like you’ve just tasted something sour. What is it? Do you know him?”

  “I don’t know him exactly…” Harriet began, and Olivia’s stomach roiled unpleasantly. This was sounding worse and worse.

  “So what do you know?”

  “It’s just hearsay and rumours, really,” Harriet said hurriedly, which only made Olivia feel even more worried. She’d known there had been something Simon had been holding back. Of course it was all
too good to be true.

  “Rumours,” she repeated flatly. “From where?”

  “School. He’s the peripatetic music teacher for the primary school, as well as a couple of others in the area. Didn’t you know that?”

  “No, we hadn’t got that far. I know he plays the cello,” Olivia answered a bit defensively, because Harriet had sort of made it sound as if she should have known. As if she shouldn’t go out with a man for a drink without knowing his occupation.

  “He only started in September. He’s living with his sister, who has kids at the school. A boy in year two, I think, and another in nursery.”

  “Yes, I know that.” Sort of. She knew he had a sister and a nephew. “That hardly seems objectionable, though.”

  “Nooo…” Harriet sounded so uncharacteristically hesitant that Olivia felt a sudden, very real clutch of fear.

  “Don’t tell me,” she said quickly. “I don’t want to know. Not like this. It’s not fair to Simon. He’s not a serial killer or something, is he?”

  “Not a serial killer,” Harriet allowed, in a tone that suggested he was somewhere a little bit beneath that. Good grief. Olivia turned away, not trusting the expression on her face, and busied herself with wiping the counter of crumbs that had scattered there after she’d cut into the Victoria sponge cake.

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to pour cold water all over your excitement.”

  Except, of course, she already had. “It’s fine,” Olivia said, even though it wasn’t. It probably wasn’t reasonable, but she felt a little miffed with Harriet for reacting the way she had, even as she battled a deepening unease over whatever it was Harriet—and Simon—weren’t saying.

  Harriet bit her lip, looking both guilty and miserable. “I shouldn’t have said anything…”

  No, she really shouldn’t have. “It’s fine,” Olivia said firmly. “Now let me show you how the cupcake promotion works.”

  Ten minutes later Olivia was driving towards Witney, the rolling fields on either side of the road sparkling with frost on a crisp and sunny winter’s morning, the Lea River glittering alongside. The sight of the Cotswolds in all of their natural glory made Olivia’s spirits lift a little, even as she dreaded what lay ahead.