The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club

by Lynsey James

  ‘Are you going to be long in the bathroom? We need to get breakfast going.’ His face and voice were deadpan, but there was a glint in his dark eyes that betrayed how hilarious he found it all.

  I glared up at him, water dripping down my back and face. ‘I don’t suppose you know why my shower suddenly turned cold, do you?’

  He shrugged. ‘I might’ve accidentally turned the hot water on when I went to fill the kettle. Sorry. Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling you that you shouldn’t take so long in the shower.’

  I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. ‘Or maybe it’s your way of telling me that you’d rather eat your own foot than run a bed and breakfast with me. I thought we agreed we were going to try and get on. We managed it for a while yesterday until I saw your list of ideas.’

  At the mention of his list, Noah tensed up. ‘I told you that was a load of rubbish. You did throw it away, didn’t you?’

  I nodded, knowing I’d tucked it away in one of the bedside drawers to use later. ‘Of course I did!’

  His shoulders relaxed and his face broke into a smile. ‘Good. I’ll be waiting for you downstairs, Nigella!’

  *

  Sure enough, when I went down to the kitchen dressed in a charcoal trouser suit with my hair set in a low bun, Noah was waiting for me. He was his usual scruffy self, wearing a red T-shirt with at least three holes in it and some faded jeans. He was wearing something else, though, something I noticed right away: a smile.

  ‘Right, let’s get cracking then, shall we? Why don’t you sort out the fruit and cereals while I do all the cooking?’

  Noah made his way over to the cooker, but I cleared my throat to stop him.

  ‘Actually…’ I paused as I propped my iPad on the kitchen counter. ‘I thought I might do the cooking. I’ve been looking up recipes to use.’

  He looked at me with a pretty hefty degree of scepticism. ‘No offence, Emily, but your idea of breakfast is blended vegetables in a glass. That doesn’t quite cut it here. These people want a proper cooked breakfast. Have you ever done anything like this before?’

  I waved a dismissive hand and said, ‘How hard can it be?’ To prove my point, I walked over to the cooker and turned one of the rings on. A large flame immediately erupted from it. Noah turned the knob back the other way and raised an eyebrow at me.

  ‘And that,’ he said with a smirk, ‘is why I’m not letting you anywhere near the cooker.’

  He went to do the typical man thing and take control of the situation, but I stepped in front of the oven just in time. No way was I going to let him swoop in and rescue me when I was perfectly capable of cooking the breakfast myself. His body collided with mine for a brief moment, before he backed away and wiped himself down as though he’d touched something slimy.

  ‘You know what,’ he said, holding his hands up in defeat. ‘If you want to give the guests food poisoning, that’s up to you. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. If you need me, I’ll be over here doing the cereals.’

  He sidled off to the counter and began preparing some of the fresh fruit that was sitting in the fruit bowl. I watched him cut up some watermelon, mango and pineapple, neatly placing them in patterned china bowls. I, meanwhile, handled the cooked breakfast. Or at least I tried to. My lack of expertise in the art of the fry-up definitely showed; even I knew that bacon and sausages weren’t supposed to resemble lumps of charcoal.

  Noah came over to poke his nose in. ‘Are you sure they’re supposed to be like that?’ he asked ‘They look a bit black to me.’

  I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore how close he was to me as he stretched up to reach for some cereal. ‘Look, everything’s fine over here. Why don’t you go and see if the guests are up yet? If they are, take their orders and bring them through here so I know what everyone wants.’

  ‘Shouldn’t you have waited until you had the orders before you started cooking?’ He threw his hands up in surrender when I shot him a dark look. ‘Just saying!’

  ‘I’m planning ahead so I can plate up quicker,’ I replied with a tight smile. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I need to know what the guests want to eat.’

  He took another look at the burnt remains in the pan, a smile playing on his lips. ‘All right, Nigella – if you insist!’ He snatched the iPad off the counter nearest the door and sloped off to the dining room. When he entered the room, a loud chorus of cheerful greetings erupted. I couldn’t help but smile; we might be constantly at loggerheads, but you couldn’t deny the guests all loved him.

  He was welcomed back into the kitchen by a loud bang followed by a cry of ‘oh shit!’

  ‘Things going well in here then?’ he asked, approaching me with caution.

  ‘They would be if I hadn’t tipped the pan of sausages onto the floor!’ I let out a frustrated groan and scrubbed a hand over my face. ‘Look, they’re bloody ruined!’

  He stuck the iPad on the kitchen table and bent down to help me clean up. ‘Not as easy as it looks, is it? I remember the first time I tried to cook breakfast in here; God, it was awful! Eggs were practically raw and don’t even get me started on what the bacon looked like. I managed to pick it up eventually, though; my full English is famous round these parts now.’

  I grinned as I put some replacement sausages and bacon in a pan. ‘Famous, eh? Now this I’ll have to see. Or eat, rather. Maybe you can do it for the breakfast club, if we start one.’

  He shook his head. ‘Emily, I told you that was just a daft idea I had one day. It wouldn’t actually work in practice; the Moonlight Café down the road does an amazing breakfast and I wouldn’t want to tread on Diane’s toes. Plus, I wouldn’t have the first clue about what to serve. I can do a full English, but that’s it. We’d need to offer more than that.’

  I stopped what I was doing and turned to face him. ‘It’s a brilliant idea, Noah, and it could really work here. We could research really nice breakfast dishes to offer and make it something really special. I know how much you love Sunflower Cottage and I think a breakfast club could be amazing.’

  He paused and stared into the distance as he thought about what to say next. ‘You really think it could work? Bear in mind, there’d be no blended-up vegetables on the menu!’

  I narrowed my eyes and shot him a playful look. ‘Of course! You never know; the food we serve might be so good that I never drink another green smoothie again.’

  Noah smiled. ‘I don’t know about that! Plus, we’d have to stop arguing long enough to get the club up and running.’

  I shrugged as a small smile formed on my lips. ‘Stranger things have happened, I suppose. We can talk more about it later on and see what we can come up with.’

  ‘I’d like that,’ he replied. ‘I’d like that a lot.’

  Our eyes locked briefly until I turned away to focus on the sizzling food in front of me. My heart did a funny little flutter, but I put it down to the smells ensnaring my senses.

  After all, what else could it be?

  *

  In an ideal world, the cooked breakfasts would’ve gone out with little to no trouble at all. The guests would’ve tucked into them, enjoyed them and gone about their day as normal.

  However, quite the opposite happened.

  The sausages were burnt to a crisp, the eggs were rubbery and inedible, and the bacon crumbled to dust. Several of the guests expressed their disappointment, saying Rose would never have let such an awful breakfast go out to her customers. They all unsurprisingly refused my offer of replacement food and instead shuffled up to their rooms, grumbling and muttering under their breath.

  I joined Noah in the kitchen, where I found him sitting at the table with a curious smile on his face. I couldn’t quite work out what he was thinking. No change there.

  ‘Well, that was a bloody disaster.’ I sank onto a chair opposite him and heaved a sigh, throwing my head into my hands. ‘This is why I’m glad I buy hotels instead of work in one.’

  ‘I’m not going to say “I told you so�
�, but I will say it could’ve been a lot worse,’ said Noah. I felt his eyes on me and looked up to see him smiling. It was oddly comforting. ‘At least you didn’t set anything on fire like I did. Nearly burnt the whole place down. So, you know, you really didn’t do too badly by those standards.’

  I managed a weak smile, but only just. ‘Thanks for trying to make me feel better, but you’ve got to admit that today’s breakfast was a disaster! Oh well, tomorrow’s another day, eh?’

  I got up from my chair and moved towards the door, turning back when I realised I’d forgotten to say something important. ‘You know, I thought you were going to go mental over this breakfast thing.’

  He shrugged and grinned. ‘What can I say, I’m full of surprises! I’m not always mean and moody, you know.’

  We looked at each other for a moment before he pierced the silence. ‘Anyway, I’d better get off to the garage. Still got your car to fix!’

  I watched his retreating frame leave Sunflower Cottage, my curiosity firmly piqued. What other surprises did Noah Hartley have up his sleeve?

  Chapter 11

  The next morning started with a host of good intentions. I got up early, thanks to the tinny sound of my phone alarm, and stumbled onto the landing. Although my brain wasn’t fully awake, I was still ready to tackle whatever the day had to throw at me. Today was going to go better than yesterday’s debacle had, that was for sure…

  What the hell was that?

  I heard a suspicious shuffling coming from downstairs. It couldn’t be the guests; they were all in bed at this time of the morning. My mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion: shit, it’s a burglar. Since I was technically responsible for the place, it was up to me to tackle them. Me, who was about as intimidating as a kitten pawing at a ball of wool. Still, I had to do something. I snuck back inside my room, unplugged the bedside lamp and brandished it above my head. It wasn’t the best weapon, but it would have to do. Slowly, carefully, I stepped out onto the landing, trying to channel some sort of courage and failing.

  ‘Hello?’ My voice came out as a terrified wobble as I stood at the top of the stairs. Downstairs was shrouded in darkness, yet I couldn’t help feeling like something was seriously wrong.

  Another clatter. Louder this time.

  ‘Fuck this,’ I muttered.

  I stepped onto the stairs, holding the lamp above my head in shaking hands. A large black shadow appeared on the wall and my heart lurched.

  ‘I… I’ve phoned the police and they’re on their way!’ Fear flooded me and I stood frozen on the staircase. ‘A… and I’ve got a weapon!’

  The shadow grew larger as it drew towards me. I braced myself for the moment where I’d have to smack whoever it was over the head with the lamp then run like hell.

  Suddenly, a light was turned on and I saw Noah standing in the hall. One eyebrow was raised and he was looking at me like I was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever laid eyes on. I couldn’t help noticing he was wearing his dark-blue overalls and had oil smears on his face. For some reason, my heart started hammering.

  ‘Jesus!’ I jumped in fright and almost dropped my makeshift weapon. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?!’

  ‘Oh, very scary,’ he said with a small grin, looking me up and down. ‘The fluffy dressing gown and the mad hair are great burglar deterrents. You can put the lamp down, by the way. I’m not going to hurt you.’

  I felt my breathing and heart rate slow back to normal and put the lamp down on the stairs. Instinctively, I tried to flatten my hair down, although I wasn’t sure why. I knew I looked like I’d been plugged into the National Grid.

  ‘What are you doing creeping around down here anyway?’ I huffed. ‘You nearly gave me a heart attack!’

  ‘Letting myself in; what does it look like?’ The friendly demeanour from yesterday had completely vanished; Mean and Moody Noah was in the building.

  ‘Who rattled your cage?’ I felt more than a little disappointed that we weren’t going to carry on our good-natured banter. Arguing with him was a pretty exhausting task, after all.

  ‘Let’s get to work, eh? We’ve got guests to feed. Let’s hope today goes better than yesterday; it couldn’t get any worse, could it?’

  *

  Throughout our lives, we’re always taught to be careful what we wish for.

  That morning, however, it became apparent that Noah hadn’t learnt this lesson. After saying our breakfast experience couldn’t possibly get any worse, that was exactly what happened.

  ‘Remind me again why you thought doing hard-boiled eggs in the microwave was a good idea?’ Noah stared incredulously at the mess I was valiantly trying to clean up. ‘Surely you knew they had to be cooked in a pot. I know you “don’t do breakfast”, but even you must know how to do hard-boiled bloody eggs!’

  I glared at him as I tried to contain the mess to just the inside of the microwave. ‘I’d run out of space on the cooker and I’d read somewhere you could put eggs in the microwave to boil them! Obviously, you can’t! Why don’t you grab a cloth and help me instead of asking pointless questions?’

  I cringed as I realised how snappy and irritable I’d sounded. It wasn’t his fault I’d tried to save time by sticking eggs in the microwave, after all. Still, he wasn’t helping the situation by raking over it again and again.

  ‘Can’t – I’ve got to try and salvage some of the pans you set on fire by having the hob turned up way too high. Then I’ve got to get over to the garage and finish off your car.’

  He stalked sulkily off towards the oven and picked up one of the pans to scrub it. I could practically hear his foul mood crackling and hissing away to itself, like a pan of bubbling liquid waiting to go over the boil.

  ‘OK,’ I said, throwing my cloth down and abandoning the eggy disaster area I’d created, ‘what have I done this time? Yesterday, we were talking about starting a breakfast club and things seemed to be OK between us. Now, you’re back to treating me like I’m something you’ve stepped in. I know you don’t like me because of why I’m here and I get it, really I do. You feel like I’m taking your home away from you, right? I’m sorry you’re losing such a huge part of your life but, believe it or not, it isn’t my fault. I’d appreciate it if you could stop blowing hot and cold with me, being nice one minute then horrible the next.’

  ‘It’s not that I don’t like you,’ he said softly. ‘I know I’ve been a right arse to you since you got here, but it’s only because I love this place so much. It’s been a home for me when I’ve had nowhere else to go and I can’t imagine life without it being here. I’m sorry if that’s come off as my not liking you. I had a bit of a nasty shock yesterday and I’ve been taking it out on you when I shouldn’t have. I haven’t been the easiest person to get on with, have I?’

  ‘Not really, but I can see why you don’t want to lose Sunflower Cottage. Believe it or not, I actually do like this place… Want to talk about your nasty shock over some badly burnt bacon and sausage? Or better yet, how about some hard-boiled eggs done in the microwave? We could even talk about the breakfast club too.’

  ‘Nah it’s fine,’ he said, shaking his head and waving a dismissive hand. ‘I think the whole B&B’s had enough of your cooking to last it a lifetime!’ His face fell and his shoulders sagged. ‘I’ll be fine, it’s just… Never mind, it’s nothing.’

  He mumbled an excuse and went back to scrubbing his pans, leaving me to wonder exactly what was going on in that mind of his. And just why I cared so much about what he was thinking anyway.

  *

  In the absence of a Wi-Fi connection and to distract myself from trying to work out what Noah’s ‘nasty shock’ had been, I decided to read more of Derek’s letters to my mum. Now was as good a time as any, after all, and I couldn’t use work to avoid my problems at the moment. They were all right here, demanding to be dealt with. I reached into the drawer and tipped the envelopes out onto the bed. My biological dad was in these letters; everything that made him
who he was, his likes and dislikes, his quirks, his hopes and dreams. I could read them and prepare myself for what he’d be like when I finally met him.

  I picked up a letter and tore it open.

  Dear Pam,

  Never have I felt more alone or confused than I do now. Here I am with this beautiful, perfect family that I love to the moon and back, yet I can’t stop thinking about something else entirely. That something, Pamela, is YOU. You’ve just given birth to our beautiful baby girl and all I want to do is rush up to Glasgow to see you both.

  Life has continued as normal for me since you left. Yet for me, it will never be normal again. I will never forget you or the baby we have together. I know I can never see either of you – we both have lives that would be irreparably damaged if our affair became public knowledge – but I can’t help wondering about you both.

  Much as I don’t want to, I think about you a lot. I wonder if I ever cross your mind, if you ever think about what happened between us. I have an amazing life in Luna Bay with my family, but my time with you showed me another life. One I could’ve had if only I’d been brave enough. I remember you telling me that it was the same for you: you had a stable, structured life in Scotland with a man who adored you, yet being with me showed you something else. Something you desperately wanted to grab hold of, but were too scared to. I know we agreed that going our separate ways was for the best, but if you ever find that you feel brave enough to grab what you want, I’ll be here. I’ll always be here, Pamela. Thank you for including the photo of Emily; she really is beautiful. I hope you and Simon are happy and settling into life as new parents. I also hope that one day I’ll be able to come and see my little girl.

  Best wishes

  Derek

  I heaved a sigh and wiped some tears from my cheeks. Mum had put career and stability before what she truly desired. It was obvious from this letter and the first one I’d read that Derek had loved her and wanted to make a life with her, but she’d gone back to what she’d known and been comfortable with. Mum had obviously felt the same way too; he definitely hadn’t been a fleeting fling she’d been able to cast aside without a second thought.