The Bakery at Seashell Cove

by Karen Clarke

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Realising it sounded ungracious, I shoved the tray into the oven, hoping the billowing heat would account for my blazing cheeks.

  ‘I couldn’t leave without seeing you,’ he said simply, holding out a paper parcel he’d had tucked under his arm. ‘It’s not much,’ he said.

  My heart was throwing itself against my chest as I took it and peered inside. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Um, maybe take it out and see?’

  Catching the flare of amusement in his eyes, I said, ‘Good plan.’ I retrieved what felt like a piece of canvas material and after shaking it out, a smile lifted my mouth when I saw an apron with the words ‘Meg’s Kitchen’ on a cream background, in pastel pink and green lettering, with a cake stand of cupcakes printed underneath.

  ‘Oh, Nathan, I love it!’

  He grinned. ‘I know you want this place to keep its name, but I really think you should add “Meg’s Kitchen” at some point.’ It was the same name Big Steve had suggested, and was starting to grow on me. ‘After all, it’s yours now.’

  Something about the way he said it made me look at him sharply. Was he the mystery buyer? I knew if I asked, he’d probably deny it and I honestly didn’t think he could have faked his excitement when he’d told me the news at the café, plus how could he afford it?

  I pulled the apron over my head to mask a moment of confusion, almost dislodging my hairnet, which I smoothed back on. It wasn’t flattering, but Nathan had seen it before.

  ‘There’s a couple more, for your staff to wear,’ he said, adding, ‘May I?’ with an air of ceremony.

  I gave a gracious bow and said, ‘Of course, sir,’ and he came and fastened the straps, his hands brushing my waist with a feather-light touch that made me ache for more. I sprang back, and made a fuss of smoothing the apron over my dress, touched beyond measure by the thought of him visiting websites and choosing the design. ‘There’s no pocket.’

  ‘Ah, I didn’t think of that.’ He rubbed a hand over his chin. ‘You’ll have to find somewhere else to put your ring while you’re baking.’

  ‘Oh no, I didn’t mean… it’s fine, I mean, I don’t need a pocket…’ I trailed off as our gazes landed on my ring finger, the pale band where my engagement ring normally rested as obvious as if I was still wearing it. As if the sight had reminded him of Sam, Nathan moved away to the table where my cakes were cooling.

  ‘These look great,’ he said, clearly making an effort to sound merely friendly. ‘Are they for tomorrow?’

  I nodded, and ran him through what else I was planning to bake, from chocolate dipped flapjacks to strawberry and fresh cream tarts. ‘I’ve a delivery arriving later, and Big Steve’s coming in really early in the morning to prepare some loaves, so all I have to do is put them in the oven half an hour before opening, and Cassie’s coming to help in the shop, because Kath needs to learn the ropes, so it’s going to be all hands on deck.’ I paused for breath. ‘Alice is doing an update on her show this evening, and is going to thank the buyer for me, in case he’s watching.’

  ‘I’m sure he will be,’ said Nathan, moving around the kitchen, stopping to peer in the sink at the dishes that needed washing, so I couldn’t see his face. ‘Do you want a hand with anything?’

  ‘You could make some tea,’ I said, determined to grab every second I could with him, before he disappeared from my life for good. ‘White with one sugar.’

  As he filled the kettle and rinsed the mugs, I got out the ingredients to make a cake for the café – carrot and orange – and tried not to think how natural it felt to be sharing the space with him.

  ‘Are you all packed for your trip?’

  ‘Not yet,’ said Nathan shortly, and I had the sense he didn’t want to talk about it any more than I did, so I asked about Charlie instead.

  ‘He asked me last night why he can’t see his own eyes,’ he said, relaxing into a grin. ‘Why do kids ask questions that are so hard to answer?’

  Smiling, I went to remove my gingerbread hearts from the oven, while Nathan told me that Charlie had once asked his mum why she and daddy had some handcuffs in their bedroom drawer, and was mummy a policeman.

  ‘Something pretty amazing’s happened,’ I said, when there was a natural lull, and while I grated the carrots for the cake, I told him about my dad, and he sat on Mr Moseley’s stool, shaking his head now and then, and gave a low whistle when I’d finished.

  ‘That is amazing.’ He folded his arms and studied my face, which I guessed was shiny with heat. ‘I can’t even imagine how you – and your mum – must be feeling.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘It’s been pretty intense.’

  ‘Amazing, though. What an opportunity for you all.’

  It was impossible not to compare his reaction with Sam’s, and I had to remind myself Nathan wasn’t invested in my future, and that there wouldn’t be any ramifications for him. Although, the more I thought about it, I couldn’t see any downsides to having Mike in my life. His biggest mistake had been to marry a woman he didn’t love, but it wasn’t as if he’d turned into some sort of addict (as far as I knew), or was heavily in debt, or an ex-con who’d been in prison, or had twenty-odd children to different mothers. He didn’t even seem like he’d be an embarrassing dad; the type who told terrible jokes, or broke wind in front of guests (Mum had said her dad used to do that sometimes, finding it hilarious, to her mortification). Like Sam’s dad, Mike seemed the sort of man who’d be a positive influence (already was, where Mum was concerned) – a dad with an instinctive feel for parenting. A man who deserved the title dad.

  I said as much to Nathan, who nodded, seeming to understand. ‘He’s obviously ready to step up,’ he said. ‘It’s all coming together for you.’ He rose, his tea cooling on the worktop next to mine, and came over. ‘It couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.’ He drew me into his arms, and I rested my head against his chest for a long, long moment, feeling his steady heartbeat through his T-shirt. I had to resist an impulse to push my hand underneath and touch his warm skin, and my breathing became unsteady.

  ‘I hope everything works out,’ he murmured into my hairnet, and I sensed him resisting impulses of his own.

  ‘For you too.’ A tight knot of tears gathered in my chest. ‘And thank you. For everything,’ I added, meaningfully, not daring to lift my gaze to meet his, knowing I wouldn’t be able to stop myself kissing him again if I did.

  ‘I didn’t buy the bakery, if that’s what you’re implying.’ Gently pulling away, he rested his hands on my shoulders. ‘I can’t work out now whether I wished I had,’ he said softly. ‘At least we’d be linked in some way.’

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say that we would be anyway, because he’d worked his way into my heart, but I could hardly say it with Sam due home and anyway, Nathan was leaving, and I had a dad to get to know, and a bakery to take care of, which was more than enough to be going on with.

  ‘I’d better go.’ Nathan was moving backwards to the door.

  ‘Thanks again for the aprons,’ I said, wiping my hands on a tea towel as I followed him out, welcoming a light breeze on my boiling cheeks.

  Nathan turned without warning, and took my hands in his. ‘I hope you’ll be happy with Sam.’ His eyes probed mine. ‘If you really want to be with him, then I’m happy for you.’

  ‘Nathan…’ I jumped as a car door slammed. Turning, my hands still laced with Nathan’s, I saw a man walking towards us.

  ‘Hey there!’ Mike gave a friendly wave, his grey hair lifting off his forehead. ‘Thought I’d come and see you at work in this amazing bakery I’ve heard so much about.’ He smiled broadly, turning to Nathan who finally let go of my fingers. ‘You must be Sam,’ Mike said. ‘I don’t know if she’s had time to tell you the story because I know you’ve been away.’ He held out a hand. ‘I’m Mike Byrne.’ He clapped a mildly stunned Nathan on the back. ‘It’s great you’ve made it back in time for tomorrow. It’ll mean a lot to Meg.’

 
‘Dad,’ I said, only registering I’d used the word when he turned to me with an expression of unfiltered joy. ‘S-Sam’s still in France,’ I stuttered. ‘This is Nathan Walsh.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ‘So sorry about that,’ said Mike, once Nathan had gone, after assuring Mike it was an easy mistake to make and giving me one last look, as though fixing me in his mind before leaving with a final wave.

  ‘It’s OK, don’t be silly.’ I felt oddly shy now we were alone, as well as bereft that Nathan had gone before I’d had a chance to say even a quarter of what was on my mind. ‘How’s Mum?’

  ‘Oh, I left her and Kath having tea and a chinwag,’ he said as I led him into the kitchen out of the sunshine. ‘She seems like a good friend.’

  ‘She is,’ I assured him. ‘I don’t know what we’d have done without her, at times.’

  He nodded with a sad, flat smile, no doubt wishing he’d been around for those times too. ‘Looks like it’s your mum’s turn to repay the favour now the daughter’s taken off.’

  ‘Poor Kath,’ I said, lifting the kettle, wondering whether he’d noticed the two still full mugs of tea on the side. ‘Would you like a drink?’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m good, thanks. I’m drowning in the brown stuff, I’ve had that much since I got here.’

  ‘Not just champagne, then?’

  I felt bad when he flushed with embarrassment. ‘I don’t normally drink bubbly, but thought the occasion merited it,’ he said, eyes scanning the kitchen, and the cakes on the table. ‘It’s not every day you find out that not only does the woman you’ve always loved still want you, but you’ve a daughter you never knew existed.’

  ‘A sort of belated wetting the baby’s head?’ I said, thinking how odd it was that the baby in question was me.

  ‘Exactly.’ He smiled, but his eyes had settled on me, full of concern. ‘Meg, I…’

  He paused as the delivery turned up, continuing when I’d signed for it and the delivery man had gone, whistling cheerily.

  ‘I know it’s a bit much, me offering fatherly advice when we’ve barely met, but the way you two were looking at each other, I’d no reason to think you weren’t madly in love.’

  My heart did a big leap. ‘Me and the delivery man?’

  Mike gave me a look. ‘You know fine well I’m talking about young Nathan,’ he said, jerking his head at the door as if he might still be there. ‘Why were the two of you holding hands, if you’re not a couple?’

  I glanced at the heap of carrots I’d grated and realised I wouldn’t have time now to bake my cake before I went to the café. ‘We’re friends,’ I said, my voice pitched slightly too high. ‘We were actually saying goodbye.’ I made myself meet Mike’s gaze. ‘He’s going to Ireland, funnily enough. He does a bit of travel writing for the Telegraph. He’s been helping look after his nephew, and the estate agency his brother owns.’ I was talking too much – a sure sign of guilt. ‘That’s how we met, you see. He was handling the sale of the bakery.’

  ‘And you’ve fallen for the fella.’

  I stared at Mike, in his baggy white shirt and jeans, and sensible saddle-brown shoes, and felt as if something inside me was coming undone. ‘Like I said, we’re just good friends, not even that really, we’ve not known each other very long.’

  ‘It only took me a night to fall in love with your mum.’ Cupping my elbow, Mike guided me to the stool where Nathan had been sitting ten minutes ago, as if he thought I might faint. He tipped tea out of one of the mugs and filled it with water from the tap. ‘It’s not a crime, love,’ he said, handing me the mug. ‘These things happen, as I know only too well.’

  I was breathing too quickly. ‘All I ever wanted was to marry Sam,’ I said, almost to myself. ‘I’ve known him since we were at school.’

  ‘I know, your mum told me.’ He paused. ‘Things change, Meg. Don’t do what I did. Don’t marry the man if you don’t love him.’

  He made it sound so simple – not like unravelling a whole life. ‘I do care about him,’ I said. ‘At least… I did.’

  ‘Meg,’ Mike began, but I couldn’t have this conversation. Not with Mike.

  I stood up to curb further discussion. ‘There’s so much going on at the moment, my head’s all over the place.’ I whipped off my hairnet and shook out my hair as if to demonstrate, then tucked it back inside. ‘And, like you said, it’s a bit soon for fatherly advice.’

  Whirling into action, I emptied the delivery bags, lining up bags of flour, sugar, cake boxes, cartons of blueberries, nets of lemons and oranges, and cartons of cream. ‘I have to get this in the fridge,’ I said, moving past him with my hands full. ‘I’m heading to the café shortly, it’s my last afternoon there.’

  ‘You’re not going to let me try this lovely cake?’ His eyes were still touched with worry, but he’d clearly decided to back off. He probably felt glad that he hadn’t had a lifetime of trying to advise and protect a daughter who wouldn’t – or couldn’t – listen.

  ‘That cake’s for tomorrow,’ I said, ‘but you can have a gingerbread biscuit, and I’ll give you a tour if you like.’

  I managed to keep my smile in place, and eventually he nodded. ‘I’d like that very much.’ He glanced at my apron. ‘Meg’s Kitchen is a great name, by the way.’

  Big Steve was as good as his word, and when I arrived at the bakery at six the following morning, the kitchen was still deliciously warm and yeasty. There were several trays of freshly-baked loaves and rolls, waiting to go out on display, with a note to say there was plenty more dough in the freezer if I ran out.

  There were granary, white and wholemeal loaves, a batch flavoured with basil and tomato, and one studded with sunflower seeds, as well as a tray of doorstopper scones and another note, wishing me luck.

  It feels good to be part of team Meg! Rock and ROLL (!) S XX

  Smiling, I pulled on my brand new apron and started work, trying to keep my mind empty of the previous day’s events. My stint at the café had ended ingloriously with a massive sneezing fit after hauling Dickens away from a plate of crumbs on the counter, while Gwen tore a strip off Dom for chatting up Tamsin instead of working.

  Back home, exhausted and puffy eyed, I’d checked Facebook to see Sam’s latest update, which was a group shot somewhere high up, with a view of Lake Geneva in the distance, and the words About to pass through the international border, then it’s flat roads all the way! Big meal tonight, then time off to enjoy Geneva in the morning, before getting the Eurostar back to London! He’d added a crying face, which had done nothing for my mood, and neither had the sight of George grinning up at Sam, who was resting his elbow on her shoulder. Ben had written underneath You lot are making me sick now, and didn’t sound like he was joking. I’d switched off my phone then and watched Britain’s Hidden Gems with a plate of cheese and a bag of Mini Eggs for dinner. Alice Denby had been visiting a remote but pretty fishing village in Cornwall, and before introducing the gifted guest of the week – a man who’d taught his dog to surf – she’d updated viewers about the bakery, passing on my thanks to the mystery buyer (‘It’s people like you, sir, who make this job worthwhile’), which led to me thinking of all that had happened since Sam had been away. I’d lain awake for ages, trying to process it all – and to digest the cheese and Mini Eggs – and had only managed to fall asleep after running through my mental database of cake recipes in alphabetical order.

  Pushing aside a memory of Nathan fastening my apron strings (a memory Tilly would no doubt scorn, with its forties-housewife overtones), I got out my ingredients, and the pastry I’d made the day before, and spent the next two and half hours making blueberry muffins, some flapjacks dipped in dark chocolate, a variety of cupcakes thickly swirled with buttercream, and some apple and cinnamon pies. By the time I’d finished piping icing on my gingerbread hearts, I was hot-cheeked and singing along to an All Saints medley as Kath and Cassie arrived.

  ‘I’ve got bunting!’ Cassie came in brandishing an armfu
l of cheery triangular flags. ‘I remembered seeing some in the dresser at home,’ she said. ‘Nan said my parents hung it outside the café after it was refurbished, so I thought it might be nice to string it along the front of the building. There’s some mounting tape, so we won’t even need a hammer.’

  ‘You lost me at mounting tape.’

  She laughed. ‘Have you got a stepladder?’

  ‘There’s one in the downstairs loo. Don’t ask me why.’

  As she went to get it, Kath hung up her bag and denim jacket, and the sight of her blingy shoes with bows and sparkle was touching. Her eyes almost popped out of her head as she eyed the wealth of baked products waiting to go out. ‘They look marvellous, love, you have been busy.’

  ‘Big Steve baked the bread.’ Nerves were starting to kick in. ‘Why didn’t I think about bunting?’

  ‘You’ve had enough on your plate,’ Kath said, with an enviable lack of nerves, considering it was her first day in a new job. I guessed having a daughter flee the country, leaving behind a husband and a grandson, made selling cakes seem easy. ‘You’re coping ever so well with your dad coming back and sweeping your mum off her feet.’ She patted her hair, which I doubted would fit beneath a net, but was at least piled out of the way. ‘It’s made me think about getting myself a nice Irish gentleman.’ She faked a starry-eyed look. ‘I might ask your father if he’s got any single friends.’

  Your father. It sounded nice. ‘No harm in trying,’ I said, handing her one of the aprons Nathan had brought. ‘Do you mind wearing this?’ I knew she didn’t like covering up, and although she was dressed ultra-modestly by her usual standards, there was a considerable amount of cleavage visible in the dip of her leopard-print top. ‘It’s, er, to protect your clothes.’