Snowy Nights at Castle Court

by Holly Hepburn

  Sadie glanced over again and shook her head. There was a look on Jaren’s face that she thought she recognised. She opened her mouth to explain but just at that moment, Cat glanced out of the window at Seb’s. Sadie closed her mouth. Whatever Jaren did or didn’t feel for Cat, now wasn’t the time to mention it. Not when Cat was so clearly interested in someone else, Sadie decided.

  She concentrated on finishing her pancake, swapping a few of her meatballs for some of the cheesy mozzarella balls, and pushed her reservations about Cat and Seb to the back of her mind. Because the truth was, when it came down to it, her best friend’s love life was really none of her business.

  Chapter Six

  In what felt to Cat like the blink of an eye, it was the weekend again. With only two weeks left until Smart Cookies opened, her days seemed to be filled with an endless blur of baking, biscuits and paperwork. The stock was building up, thanks to Sadie’s dedication, and the shop was actually starting to look the way it should, but Cat still found herself waking up in a cold sweat during the early hours of the morning, worrying about all the things she had forgotten.

  Sadie was busy looking after Lissy and had no plans to come into the city. Cat was meant to have the weekend off too but she’d been restless at home on Saturday, unable to concentrate. She’d stopped by Castle Court just before lunchtime, intending to spend an hour or so finalising their order for packaging to keep the biscuits safe when they were sent out in the mail. Six hours later, she was still there. On the plus side, she now had an extra four batches of treacle-spiced biscuits ready for Sadie to ice on Monday morning and an advert for temporary staff to stick up in the window.

  Scrunching her stiff shoulders, she climbed the stairs and gazed around the shop. Everywhere she looked, she saw signs of Sadie’s artistic talent; the shelves were packed with samples of the biscuit collections they’d designed together and that Sadie’s skill with icing had brought to life. A Nativity scene lay inside a Perspex box, ready to be assembled, complete with donkeys, shepherds and a tiny crib. And the Christmas tree stood by the door, waiting to be hung with shimmering edible baubles. It was going to be amazing once it was all in place, Cat thought, as she put the advert in the window and stared out at the shoppers and diners wandering through the freezing winter gloom. Everything was under control. So why couldn’t she relax?

  It was a throwback to her final few months in Paris, when she told herself over and over again that everything was fine when it wasn’t. Not by a long way. And now she couldn’t trust herself. Cat almost laughed; it would have been funny if it wasn’t so tragic. She thought about going home but the idea of a long evening in front of the television made her feel even worse. It was too early to go for something to eat. But it wasn’t too early for a drink.

  She found herself in Seb’s almost without being aware of deciding to go there. He blinked when she walked in, wincing at the noise from the early evening crowd, and then smiled. ‘Hey. You’re a sight for sore eyes.’

  She slipped into an empty seat in front of the bar. ‘What do you recommend, Mr Mixologist?’

  Seb raised an eyebrow. ‘For a pre-dinner drink?’

  Cat shook her head. ‘For when you want to stop thinking.’

  ‘Right,’ Seb said and reached for a bottle. ‘How do you feel about Jack Daniel’s?’

  ‘I think he sounds like someone I could make friends with really fast,’ Cat said honestly.

  Nodding, Seb set to work. ‘Bad day?’ he asked, pouring a generous measure of whiskey into the cocktail shaker.

  Cat pulled a face. ‘Do you ever think about how many plates you keep spinning and wonder what would happen if you suddenly just stopped?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ Seb said. He picked up a bottle of sugar syrup and added a measure, then reached for the Angostura bitters and dropped three drops into the shaker, followed by some ice. ‘Do you want to stop spinning?’

  ‘No, although I did do that once,’ Cat said. ‘All the plates came crashing down and almost took me with them. But that’s not my problem today.’

  He glanced up at her. ‘No?’

  She sighed. ‘My problem today is that I think I’ve forgotten where my plates are. And that’s just as bad as walking away from them – they come crashing down just as hard whether you meant them to or not.’

  Seb smiled and gave the cocktail shaker several hard shakes. ‘It sounds like you need to chill out. I bet your plates are totally under control,’ he said, pouring the mixture into a glass.

  ‘Which is what brings me here, asking for a cocktail that will help me to stop thinking,’ Cat replied.

  He scraped his knife across the surface of an orange, releasing a length of peel and a heady burst of citrus that made Cat’s mouth water, and then picked up a lighter and ran the flame along the length of the peel. It burst into bright light for a moment, then Seb dropped the peel into the glass and pushed it towards Cat. ‘Here. Try this.’

  Cat held the drink up to the light, admiring the way the tawny liquid was turned amber by the orange peel garnish. Then she put the glass to her lips and downed the contents in one.

  Seb studied her for a moment, then puffed out his cheeks and grinned. ‘Same again?’

  Elin arrived just after seven o’clock and insisted that Cat join her for something to eat. Cat wasn’t sure whether Seb had summoned the chocolatier or whether, like Cat, she’d merely wanted a drink, but it didn’t really matter. By mutual agreement, they ate away from Castle Court.

  ‘So, tell me about you and Jaren,’ Cat said, once steaming baskets of dim sum covered the table in front of them.

  Elin paused before removing a bamboo lid and helping herself to a dumpling. ‘There isn’t anything to tell. We’re friends, that’s all.’ She fixed Cat with a level stare. ‘Tell me about you and Seb.’

  Cat smiled. ‘The same as you and Jaren. Nothing to tell.’

  ‘Nothing to tell yet,’ Elin corrected her. ‘I recognise the look in Seb’s eyes and believe me, if he gets his way you’ll be more than just friends.’

  ‘Oh?’ Cat said, taking a sip of her jasmine tea. ‘That sounds like the voice of experience.’

  The blonde woman shrugged. ‘It was a long time ago – I imagine there have been plenty of others after me. We went on a couple of dates, spent the night together and quickly realised we were better off as friends.’

  Cat nodded; it was pretty much exactly as she’d suspected. ‘And you think that’s what he wants from me too.’

  ‘It fits his pattern,’ Elin said, her tone cautious. ‘But I could be wrong. He might want much more for all I know. I’m an expert in chocolate, not Seb de Jager.’

  ‘Luckily for Seb, I am very much in the market for a distraction,’ Cat told the other woman.

  Elin smiled and raised her bottle of beer to tap against Cat’s. ‘Then it sounds like you might both get what you want. Cheers!’

  *

  The bar was much busier when they returned. Powder-fine snow had begun to drift down from the blackened sky and it seemed that plenty of Saturday night revellers had decided to take refuge from the wintry chill in Seb’s. Cat hovered beside Elin in the doorway, surveying the crowd and wondering whether she should head for home, but Seb spotted them and pointed at a table in the corner marked ‘Reserved’, close enough to the bar for him to be able to chat when he had a spare few minutes. Remembering her hangover of the week before, Cat switched to water after the first cocktail; however the rest of the night panned out, she wanted to remember it.

  Elin’s natural reserve loosened after a few more drinks and Cat was surprised to discover she had a wickedly sharp sense of humour hidden beneath her Scandinavian coolness. She made Cat laugh with her descriptions of Greg’s pomposity and Cherie’s mean-spirited miserliness. ‘Honestly, if ever two crotchety souls deserved each other, it’s them.’

  Cat conjured up an image of Cherie’s haughty demeanour and Greg’s balding, rotund head. ‘I must admit, I wouldn’t have put them together. How l
ong have they been a couple?’

  ‘About a year,’ Elin said. She gave Cat a shrewd smile. ‘And I know what you mean – they are an odd couple. But Castle Court has a way of bringing people together.’

  By the time Seb was ushering out the last reluctant leavers, Cat had developed a genuine warmth for Elin and felt better than she had for days.

  ‘Another drink?’ Seb offered, once he had turned the Open sign to Closed and locked the door.

  ‘Not for me,’ Elin said, getting to her feet. ‘Two’s company, after all, and my bed is calling me.’

  Cat smiled as the other woman winked at her and made her way to the door, pausing only to whisper something to Seb. ‘Goodnight, Cat,’ she called as she left. ‘Have fun.’

  Seb shut the door after her and turned to gaze at Cat. ‘And then there were two.’

  Cat watched Elin make her way along the covered passageway. ‘Has the snow settled?’

  He ducked his head to peer out of the window. ‘It’s turned to sleet. We’re in no danger of being snowed in tonight.’

  Cat couldn’t decide whether he sounded relieved or disappointed. ‘Shouldn’t we call Elin a cab?’ she said, as the other woman turned right and vanished into the stairwell. ‘It’s after eleven.’

  He shook his head. ‘Elin’s another garret rat – she lives two doors down from me, almost directly over our heads. I think she’ll be safe enough.’

  ‘Right,’ Cat said, feeling a sudden quiver of nervousness. Now that she was alone with Seb, she wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted to happen next. ‘Did you mention another drink?’

  ‘I did,’ Seb replied. ‘Although I need to know how fast you’re going to drink it. Because if you’re going to down it in one like the last two I made you, I’ll just pour a shot straight from the bottle.’

  Cat laughed. ‘That sounds perfect.’

  He went behind the bar and picked up two glasses and the bottle of Jack Daniel’s, then came and sat beside her. ‘So,’ he said, pouring a measure of whiskey into each glass. ‘How are those plates doing?’

  ‘Much better,’ she said, taking a sip of the drink he handed her. ‘I think they’re all under control right now, even the ones I’ve forgotten about.’

  Seb downed the shot and poured himself another. ‘I’m very glad to hear that. I wouldn’t want them to come crashing down in here – I have much more interesting things in mind for us to do than clearing up broken crockery.’

  ‘Oh?’ Cat said, gazing at him. ‘Like what exactly?’

  He studied her for a moment, as though gauging her mood, then leaned towards her. ‘Like this,’ he whispered, brushing her lips with his.

  She felt her mouth burn where he’d touched her and she wasn’t uncertain any more; she wanted Seb. Reaching one hand behind his head, she pulled him towards her and closed her eyes, giving herself up to the moment.

  When the kiss ended, they were both out of breath. Seb’s sea-green eyes were cloudy. ‘Want to get out of here?’ he asked, and Cat nodded.

  Pausing only to switch off the lights, Seb led Cat through the back of the narrow kitchen behind the bar and up a short staircase to the attic rooms above Castle Court. Another time, Cat might have spent a few minutes gazing around the low-beamed apartment, appreciating its quirky charm, but Seb was demanding all her attention. Her fingers wrapped themselves in his hair as they kissed and tumbled their way into the bedroom. And then she was fumbling with shirt buttons, jeans, punctuating each item of clothing with small, urgent kisses.

  ‘Okay?’ Seb asked, in between caresses.

  Cat gazed up at him, aware that he was giving her the chance to change her mind, to back out before the ground underneath them shifted for good. For half a second, she was tempted. Then she realised it had been months – more than a year – since she’d felt this alive. She nodded and reached out to tenderly touch his cheek. ‘Okay.’

  *

  Sadie knew something was different the moment she saw Cat on Monday morning. She was humming, for a start, bent over the work surface in the basement kitchen of the shop, a biscuit cutter in her hand.

  ‘Morning,’ Cat said, mouth curving into a soft smile. ‘Good weekend?’

  Sadie tried hard not to frown. ‘Not as good as yours, from the look on your face. Is there something I should know, or are you just happy in your work?’

  Cat cleared her throat. ‘Uh, maybe a bit of both?’

  ‘Tell me everything,’ Sadie demanded. ‘No, wait – I need coffee first. Then I want to hear all the details.’

  Typically, it took her several impatient minutes to find the coffee pods, during which time Sadie ran through the possible options. There had to be a man involved – the softness of Cat’s smile spoke of intimacy and connection, the kind of things you didn’t get from even the most perfectly baked biscuit – the question was, which one: Jaren or Seb? There was an outside chance that it could be a stranger, Sadie mused, as she waited for the coffee machine to stop hissing, but one-night stands weren’t really Cat’s style. Sadie was willing to concede there was a first time for everything, however.

  Placing a cup in front of an empty stool, she sat down at the table block and cradled her own drink. ‘So. Tell me.’

  ‘I was in a really weird mood on Saturday,’ Cat began, not quite meeting Sadie’s eyes. ‘Everything felt too much, like something was going to go catastrophically wrong and it would be all my fault.’

  Sadie shifted on her seat. It was understandable that Cat would feel that way, given the way her career had gone in Paris, but this was the first time she had ever openly acknowledged it. ‘Okay.’

  ‘I needed to be somewhere that would take my mind off all the thoughts buzzing around it, so I went to Seb’s.’

  Sadie did her best to keep her face neutral, although her heart sank at the mention of Seb’s name. She really had been hoping for Jaren.

  ‘It was busy and Elin turned up, so we went for a meal. And then we went back to the bar.’ Cat fixed Sadie with a crooked half-smile. ‘You’ll be amazed to know that I was Captain Sensible and switched to drinking water.’

  ‘I am amazed,’ Sadie said, unable to prevent a smile from creeping across her face. ‘Maybe even impressed.’

  Cat grinned. ‘I think you can probably guess what happened next. Elin left, the bar closed and it was just me and Seb.’

  ‘And?’ Sadie asked, even though she knew exactly what was coming.

  ‘And we didn’t get much sleep, had a late lunch at a pub just outside the city walls and I slept for eleven and a half hours last night. At home, in my own bed. Alone.’

  Sadie swallowed a sigh. She wanted to warn Cat, because Seb might be fun but he didn’t seem to her to be boyfriend material; his track record suggested he was strictly short-term. But Cat looked so content, so happy, that Sadie didn’t have the heart to burst her bubble. Besides, who was she to lecture anyone about relationships? Her own marriage had ended in infidelity and betrayal.

  ‘How do you feel today?’ she asked Cat, even though the evidence of her own eyes told her everything she needed to know.

  ‘Better,’ Cat said simply. ‘Like everything isn’t falling apart and we can actually do this.’

  Sadie tipped her head. ‘And you got all of that from one night with Seb? He must be good.’

  Cat laughed. ‘He is. But I think it was a combination of things – getting a fresh perspective on life was one. Acting on an uncomplicated mutual attraction was another. But—’ She held up a hand as Sadie opened her mouth to interject. ‘I’m not stupid. I know Seb isn’t going to be a long-term solution. But as temporary fixes go, he’s pretty good.’

  There were a million warnings Sadie wanted to give. She swallowed them all. ‘So you’re happy?’

  ‘I’m happy,’ Cat replied, her tone warm and gentle.

  ‘Then that’s all I care about,’ Sadie said, getting up to give her friend a hug.

  Chapter Seven

  Sadie was surprised and delighted to see A
dam tapping at the door of Smart Cookies on Wednesday morning, although she did her best to hide both. She hurried over to let him in.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. ‘What brings you here?’

  He held up a paper bag. It chinked. ‘Honey,’ he explained. ‘Cat said she wanted to buy some for your biscuits. So here it is.’

  Sadie took the bag and peered inside at the jars of crystal-clear amber. ‘Great – thanks so much for dropping it in. How much do we owe you?’

  Adam grimaced. ‘Forty-five pounds, please. I know it sounds like a lot but it’s premium, organic honey and a little goes a long way. It costs a lot more in the shops, believe me.’

  ‘I’m sure it does,’ Sadie said, charmed by his very British embarrassment at wanting to be paid for providing something of value. ‘My bag is in the kitchen – hang on.’

  She was halfway to the stairs when a daring thought occurred to her. She knew very little about Adam, other than that he lived on a farm where he grew vegetables and kept bees, and she was curious. He hadn’t mentioned a girlfriend, and Cat said Seb seemed to think he was single, but Sadie couldn’t be sure without asking him. Maybe it was time to take a leaf out of Cat’s book and go after what she wanted . . .

  Taking a deep breath, she stopped and turned around. ‘Actually, the kettle’s not long boiled. Have you got time for a cup of tea?’

  ‘Of course. I’d love one,’ he said, smiling. ‘Although it smells so good in here that you might never get rid of me.’

  Sadie laughed. ‘I know what you mean. Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.’

  In the end, they had three cups of tea and talked almost non-stop. Adam explained how he’d fallen in love with beekeeping after inheriting his first hive from the previous tenant of the cottage he rented on the edge of Waverton village.

  ‘You’re serious?’ Sadie had said, staring at him in incredulous disbelief. ‘You live at Waverton farm? That’s less than a mile from my house!’