‘You’re a bad man, Richard Green,’ she called after him.
‘What’s Daddy done now?’ Rebecca appeared at the back door.
Jasmine frowned. ‘What were you doing in the garden? You’re meant to be upstairs getting ready for school.’
‘I am ready. I went out to feed Clarice.’
‘The rabbit could have waited till I fed the chickens. Right now I need you to sort yourself out.’
Rebecca gave her mum a quick, meaningful glance up and down. ‘You still have your pyjamas on.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t have if other people would let me get on. Now go and make sure Rachel and Reuben are dressed, would you, there’s a good girl.’
Rebecca wandered obediently off. Jasmine watched her go. Although the children were triplets, they weren’t completely alike. Rebecca was slightly taller than the other two, and had also been the biggest when they were born. She was darker than the others and her hair had a natural curl to it. Rachel and Reuben looked more like twins, with Rebecca the older sister, both of them with sandy hair the shade of Jasmine’s own natural colour, but straighter like Rich’s, and darker eyes than Rebecca’s brownish-green. With no medical intervention, Jasmine had conceived the three of them completely naturally and had made quite a splash locally when the news got out. Rich had been so proud, they had joked about his mighty sperm for months down at the Dog and Hare. They certainly had got a ready-made family. It had been hard work at first, but, as Jasmine had often commented with a laugh, they would never have to potty train again after this batch. A year earlier, Kate Stephens had given birth to twins and when the local paper got wind of the story, the village was dubbed ‘the most fertile village in Hampshire’ in an evening headline.
Jasmine shook herself and returned to washing up the breakfast dishes. Often, Rich took the kids to school so that she could get an early start working, but today she was already behind schedule and the school run was going to make that worse still.
After the morning greetings and a few exchanged bits of gossip in the playground, the bell rang for the start of the school day and Jasmine was kissing the triplets goodbye. Just as she had watched them go in through the doors, a man in his late twenties rushed out, making his way towards her with a broad smile.
‘Morning, Spencer! Or should I say Mr Johns while we’re at school?’
‘Hey, Jas,’ Spencer grinned. ‘Did the kids mention anything to you about helping out on the school trip?’
‘They said something about it this morning…’
‘And?’
Jasmine chewed her lip as he waited earnestly for her reply, his huge blue eyes fixed on her under long black lashes.
‘I am kind of busy in the workshop at the moment. Summer is when most of the craft fairs and fêtes are.’
‘We’re really stuck, Jas. How about I call one Saturday and help you out in the workshop to make up for it?’
‘Spencer Johns, I saw what sort of stuff you produced in art at school. There is no way I’m letting you loose in my workshop. I’d trust Dylan first, and that’s saying something!’
Spencer laughed. ‘How is Dylan these days?’
‘The same old Dylan.’
Spencer’s smile seemed a little sad to Jasmine. It pained her to see that things lurking in their past might still be fresh in his mind. ‘I hardly see him lately,’ he mused. ‘I suppose he’s got more interesting friends to spend time with.’
‘Hmm, there was a time when he idolised you. Remember when he used to follow you all over the village showing you his Top Trumps cards?’
Spencer laughed. ‘I do. I suppose it was the older kid thing, not because I was remotely cool. Funny how the tables turn, though, isn’t it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, now I’m never able to get an audience with His Grand Coolness, and he obviously thinks I’m a huge nerd for going into primary school teaching.’
‘Why don’t you ask Dylan to help on the trip? He’s hardly got anything else to do.’
‘Dylan? I’d have to stuff cotton wool into the ears of all the kids.’
‘I’m sure he could behave for an hour or so. Go on, why don’t you ask him? He was saying only yesterday how he wanted to turn over a new leaf and become an upstanding member of the community or something. Please ask him. For me? I hate to see you two still at odds.’
A shadow crossed Spencer’s features. The banter had gone, and he was tense, brooding. The hairs on Jasmine’s neck prickled and she couldn’t quite say why, but the sight of him like that worried her.
‘I really don’t think he’d want to help me out,’ Spencer insisted.
‘What is it with you two? You’ve been back in Honeybourne for a year and you still can’t just move on? Has something else happened? Has he said anything, because if he has—’
Spencer held his hand up to stop her. ‘Nothing happened. I guess he’s got his other friends now and I’m not really the sort of person he wants to hang out with anymore.’
‘I had hoped we could put all that stuff behind us,’ Jasmine said.
‘I think we have. It’s just that things can’t be the same as they were. You understand that, surely?’
‘But we’re ok, right?’ Jasmine asked uncertainly. ‘I mean, I know we haven’t really talked about it much since you got back but…’
‘Of course we are.’
Jasmine held him in a measured gaze. He’d left Honeybourne, travelled the world and trained to be a teacher before he’d finally returned. That was enough time to sort his head out, wasn’t it? But sometimes she had a nagging feeling that he was still hiding an awful lot of pain.
‘So, what do you think about next week?’ Spencer pressed, appearing to rally himself to brightness again.
‘Next week?’
‘The trip…’
‘Oh, Spencer—’
‘Please, Jas. It’ll be a laugh for me if you come, and the kids love you, and you’ll be doing me such a massive favour.’
Jasmine let out a huge sigh. ‘Alright then.’
‘Thanks so much, you’re a star.’ Spencer made a move to hug her, and then seemed to check himself as he glanced at the windows of the school building. Instead, he gave her an awkward smile.
‘Sucker is more like,’ Jasmine smiled back.
‘You said it.’ He started towards the building; the caretaker was waiting for him to come in so he could lock the main door.
‘Oh…’ Spencer spun around and called to Jasmine as she turned to leave. ‘If Rich can come and help out, even better.’
‘You know how to push it, don’t you?’ Jasmine shouted in return.
Spencer simply grinned as he disappeared into the building.
Jasmine wasn’t really sure why she had felt the need to take the detour that led her past the old bakery as she walked home from school, but she was suddenly gripped by an urge to see if Millie was ok. When she got to the open door, she could hear voices. She peered in to see Millie vigorously scrubbing at the counter with a cloth, her jaw clenched and teeth gritted. She was clearly out of breath and struggling to be civil; Ruth Evans was sitting on the bench in the bay window, watching Millie work and sipping tea, looking for all the world as though she was at an afternoon luncheon at the WI.
‘So I told the doctor,’ Ruth was saying, ‘I told him that if there was any more vaginal discharge, I would be suing him for medical negligence. I mean, that sort of thing can ruin your life. Not to mention how much laundry it makes…’
Jasmine popped her head in. Millie stopped mid-scrub and looked up.
‘Not interrupting anything, am I?’ Jasmine asked, with a wry smile at Millie and a barely perceptible nod of the head in Ruth’s direction.
‘Not at all!’ Millie squeaked with such eagerness that Jasmine wondered whether she would leap over the counter and kiss her. ‘The more the merrier! Tea?’ she added in a voice that was definitely laced with more than a touch of hysteria.
‘I’d love
a quick one,’ Jasmine said.
‘Oh Ruth, you know that I don’t have electricity yet. Would you be an angel and get Jasmine a tea from your house?’
‘Oh hello, Jasmine,’ Ruth said as she gripped the windowsill and pushed herself up on her arthritic legs. ‘Did that water infection clear up?’
‘I didn’t have a water infection.’
‘Didn’t you? I could have sworn it was you.’
‘Not me.’ Jasmine shook her head.
‘Oh…’ Ruth looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘How’s your mum?’ she finally asked brightly.
‘Ruth…’ Jasmine said gently, ‘Mum and Dad died, remember? It was quite a while ago too.’
‘Oh gracious, so they did. Lovely woman, your mother. Always had time for a chat.’ She looked at Jasmine, her frown suddenly clearing. ‘Tea?’
‘Tea would be fabulous, Ruth.’
Ruth shuffled out past Jasmine with an amiable smile.
‘Oh dear God, thank you for rescuing me,’ Millie said as soon as Ruth was out of earshot.
‘Not at all. I’ve heard every one of those stories enough times to write them verbatim. You develop an uncanny knack of letting them wash over you after a while. And you learn how to handle her. You’ll get there one day.’
‘I hope that day comes quickly,’ Millie frowned. ‘Because I’m in serious pain here.’
‘She means well.’
‘She’s perfectly lovely,’ Millie agreed. ‘It’s just that I’m not so keen to hear about her vaginal discharge.’
‘Yes,’ Jasmine agreed, ‘perhaps she ought to know you for a whole week before she shares that sort of intimate detail.’
Both women giggled. Jasmine took Ruth’s seat in the window. ‘How’s it going here?’
‘Cleaning is about all I can do right now,’ Millie said, dropping her cloth into the bucket and wiping a hand across her brow. ‘There’s lots of repair work to be done, but first I need to get rid of the dirt so that I can actually see what needs repairing.’
Jasmine gave the place a sweeping glance with raised eyebrows. ‘You want to be careful, the dirt might be the only thing holding the place together.’
‘I know,’ Millie smiled.
‘Please don’t be offended,’ Jasmine began slowly, ‘but I’ve been thinking about your situation. Are you planning to run this place entirely alone?’
‘Yes, why not?’ Millie replied somewhat defensively. ‘I have run a business before.’
‘It’s not that,’ Jasmine elaborated, ‘it’s just that it’s a big place and it seems there’s an awful lot of building for you to be covering alone every day. When you’re baking, for example, who’s going to be in the shop?’
‘I’ll bake everything in the morning before I open.’
Jasmine blew out a thoughtful breath. ‘That sounds like a long day,’ she observed.
‘Long days are just what I need at the moment,’ Millie replied briskly, hauling the bucket of dirty water off the counter. She made her way to the street outside and sloshed the contents down the storm drain before returning and plonking the bucket back down.
‘Ignore me,’ Jasmine said, sensing the tension in the air. ‘I should learn to mind my own business.’
Millie leaned on the counter and her expression softened. ‘I’m sorry. Ignore me, I know you meant well. It’s just that I seem to be getting reminders from a lot of people these last couple of days that I haven’t thought this venture through very well.’
‘Oh?’
‘Your brother asked me about the building work yesterday. Call me stupid, but I sort of assumed that a lick of paint and some nice gingham bunting at the window would make the place good as new.’ She glanced up at the dusty beams. ‘I might be a bit wide of the mark there.’
Jasmine gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘I wouldn’t listen too much to Dylan. He’s hardly an expert. Maybe it’s not as bad as you fear?’
Millie shook her head. ‘I’m afraid he might be right.’
‘That’ll be a first.’
Ruth Evans returned with a tray. On it were three delicate bone china cups, filled with strong tea, and a pot of sugar. Millie and Jasmine shared a conspiratorial smile.
‘Staying for a while?’ Jasmine asked as Ruth tottered over to the counter and set the tray down.
‘Ooh, thank you, don’t mind if I do,’ Ruth replied as she took her cup and sat herself down next to Jasmine, who raised her eyebrows slightly at Millie.
Millie took a cup and handed it to Jasmine. ‘It seems a bit hot to be drinking tea in a stuffy old bakery,’ she said. ‘We ought to be in a lovely pub somewhere with ice-cold drinks.’
‘Tea cools you down,’ Ruth said serenely. She took a sip of hers and made a smacking sound with her lips.
‘Hmm,’ Jasmine replied noncommittally. ‘So…’ She turned to Millie. ‘Do you have a schedule to work to for the bakery?’
‘You mean to get up and running?’
Jasmine nodded.
‘I had one.’ Millie sighed. ‘But I think that’s gone out of the window. I had no idea of how much work I’d need to do before I could open.’ She peered over the rim of her cup at Jasmine. ‘I suppose you think that’s a bit idiotic?’
‘It’s your first business venture?’
‘This big, yes. I made occasion cakes to order from home before, just me and my little bitty oven. Nothing on this scale.’
‘Then you can’t be expected to make the right decision every time,’ Jasmine said. ‘I’ve made enough cocks-ups since I started the craft business. It’s a wonder I didn’t go bankrupt in the first couple of months. Things are just getting on an even keel now and I’m only just starting to feel confident in my business decisions.’
‘You have a craft business?’ Ruth put in.
Millie and Jasmine turned to her in some surprise, as though they had forgotten she was there.
‘I’ve been doing it for years,’ Jasmine smiled. ‘I thought you knew.’
‘I thought you were a barmaid at the Dog and Hare,’ Ruth said with a confused frown.
‘That was before I got married.’
‘Well,’ Ruth mumbled, ‘I don’t go in there, do I?’
Jasmine smiled patiently at her. ‘This is a lovely cup of tea, Ruth.’
‘Yes, that’s another one I owe you,’ Millie put in.
‘Oh, don’t worry, dearie, I don’t mind at all.’
Jasmine drained her cup and placed it carefully back on the tray. ‘I really should be getting some work done, otherwise I won’t have a craft business.’
‘Thanks for calling,’ Millie smiled.
Jasmine turned to go but then stopped at the door. ‘Tell me to mind my own business, but if you need to chat about anything business related – not that I’m any expert, of course – I’d be happy to. Why don’t you call one day this week while the kids are at school?’
Millie paused, but then smiled slowly. ‘That sounds nice, I might just do that.’
‘Great, let me know.’
‘I’d better get cracking too…’ Millie said, eyeing a pile of boxes stacked in a dusty corner. ‘Erm, Ruth…’
‘Oh, don’t mind me,’ Ruth said cheerfully. ‘You get on and I’ll sit quiet as a mouse and drink my tea here in this corner.’
Millie gave a helpless glance in Jasmine’s direction, who simply left them with a huge grin.
‘Your dad is here!’ Jasmine scooped up wax crayons and shreds of paper from the dining table. ‘Let’s hope he’s got good news, eh?’
‘I’ve had all my things crossed all day,’ Reuben said. Rebecca and Rachel nodded solemnly in agreement.
Jasmine looked up to see Rich in the kitchen doorway.
‘How did it go?’ she asked. They had agreed that whatever happened, Rich wouldn’t tell her on the phone, but wait until he got home so they could discuss it face to face. All day she had kept herself busy and promised herself that she would stay calm when he arrived home. But this job was a huge opportu
nity for him – for them all – and she was finding it hard to contain herself.
He gave a huge sigh. ‘Well,’ he began, ‘I might need some help drinking this…’ He produced a bottle from behind his back.
Jasmine flew across the room and flung her arms around his neck. ‘Is that champagne?’ she squealed.
‘I know it’s not good for bodies that are temples and all that, but we could let loose tonight to celebrate?’
‘Oh sod the detox!’ She kissed him. ‘You clever boy!’
‘I like to think so,’ he grinned.
The curtains billowed in the gentle breeze that whispered through the open bedroom window. Jasmine lay naked across Rich’s damp chest, her legs tangled with his.
‘I think you’ve been practising,’ he said with a lazy grin. He stroked her hair back from her face and kissed her gently.
‘You’re not the only one who can be clever,’ Jasmine murmured back.
‘Gorgeous, funny, sexy as hell… What did I ever do to deserve you? I must have been very good in a previous life. In fact, I must have been a monk or something.’
Jasmine giggled. ‘I have no idea, but keep talking. I’m enjoying the compliments too much for you to stop now.’
‘Hmm, maybe I should stop; you’ll be getting ideas that you can do better than me.’
‘Never.’ She kissed his chest. ‘Besides, I’m not going to throw all those years of living with a pauper away just as he’s about to get stinking filthy rich.’
‘I wouldn’t say rich, exactly. It’s only one film score.’
‘But there will be more, once people hear how amazing you are.’
‘You think?’
‘Of course I do. And then you’ll be loaded.’
‘Oh, I see, you only want me for my non-existent money now.’
‘Hopefully, it won’t be non-existent for much longer.’ Jasmine was silent for a moment as Rich traced a gentle finger back and forth across her shoulder. ‘Just imagine…’ she began slowly, ‘actually having some spare cash. I know we have this house and our businesses and stuff, and we’re a lot better off than some, but to have that little bit spare to be more spontaneous in life…’ She sighed softly. ‘Wouldn’t it be lovely?’
The Little Village Bakery: A feel good romantic comedy with plenty of cake (Honeybourne Book 1) Page 4
