Читать книгу Millie Vanilla’s Cupcake Café - Georgia Hill - Страница 15

The White Bear was packed with early-evening drinkers and with those having come into town for the festival. It exploded around them as a colourful warm fuzz in contrast to the chilly monochrome outside. Dean the landlord spotted Millie and said he could find them a table in a corner, away from the loudest of the revellers. When she thanked him, he simply shrugged and added that it was the least he could do for someone who made the best flapjacks this side of Weymouth.

After letting Trevor drink his fill from the bowl of water at the door, they threaded their way through and settled on an old church pew in front of a tiny table. There was only just enough room if they sat tightly thigh to thigh. Millie found she didn’t mind one little bit.

Trevor tucked himself underneath and collapsed with a sigh as Dean brought over their drinks. ‘Half a Thatcher’s, Mil, and the gent requested a pint of the local beer.’ He put the cider and the pint of Black Ven onto the table. Without ceremony he barked out, ‘Two steak and ale pies do you?’

Millie hardly had time to reply, ‘Yes please,’ before he disappeared back behind the bar. ‘I hope that’s alright for you?’ she asked Jed, who was eyeing his glass suspiciously.

‘Sounds delightful. Not sure about the beer, though.’

‘It’s a porter, a dark beer,’ Millie explained. ‘It’s brewed in Lyme Regis, not far away.’

Jed took a cautious sip. ‘It’s good.’ He took another. ‘No, really very good.’ He leant back against the pew, making it creak. Looking around at the worn slabs on the floor, at the two-foot thick whitewashed walls, at the heavy beams, he sighed with pleasure. ‘This place is great, isn’t it?’

‘It is.’

‘So, you know about beer too?’

Millie grinned, thinking that beer probably wasn’t his usual tipple. ‘Only the local stuff. I make a mean porter and chocolate cake with it.’

Jed groaned. ‘Chocolate cake? I think I’ve found my perfect woman!’ When all Millie did in response was blush, he added, ‘Is there anything you don’t know about around here?’

‘Well, I’ve lived here all my life, so I ought to.’ To hide her pleasure at his compliment, she sipped her cider and then said, ‘Where did you grow up?’

‘Oh, here and there. Family’s R.A.F. so we moved around a lot. I got sent to boarding school when I was eight.’

‘Eight?’ Millie was appalled. It was the same age as Tessa’s youngest son. ‘That seems very young.’

‘It does, I suppose,’ Jed said cheerfully. ‘But when your family moves so much it gives you some stability. Most vacs I didn’t make it home; I even spent some Christmases at school. Don’t look so horrified. I had some very jolly times with Matron’s family.’

‘Matron? Matron! Where did you go – Eton?’

Jed gave her a rueful grin. ‘Somewhere like that.’

Bloody hell. Bit different to Berecombe Comp. Millie gulped down more cider. ‘I can’t imagine spending Christmas anywhere else but home.’

‘Is that what you do?’

Millie nodded. ‘Or I used to. Now I go to my friend’s. Only for lunch, though. Trev and me, we have a good, long walk on the beach first and then get over to Tessa’s just in time for the present opening. She’s got three boys, so it’s great fun.’

‘You don’t have parents?’ Jed noticed the change in Millie’s expression and added, ‘I’m so sorry, that was intrusive.’

‘No, it’s alright. It used to be me, Mum and Dad, but they died in a car crash eleven years ago. Since then, I’ve always gone to Tessa’s.’

Jed put his hand on Millie’s. ‘Now I really am sorry. I had no right to butt in on your most personal memories. Your most painful memories.’

His hand was very warm and firm and Millie’s senses danced at his touch. It swamped the inevitable stab of grief. ‘It’s fine,’ she said quickly. ‘It was a long time ago. As the café was owned by them, it seemed the right thing to take it over and run it myself.’

‘And you’ve done that ever since? You must have been very young at the time.’

‘Yes, I suppose I was. Just about to go away to university to read English Lit.’

‘Ah. Hence the books.’

Millie nodded again. She was blurrily aware she was getting drunk quite quickly and hoped their food would arrive soon. ‘Hence the books. Trying to catch up a bit. Maybe I’ll try your suggestion of Mrs Gaskell.’

Jed nodded. ‘She’s slightly more fun than Melville. So you gave up your place at uni and stayed here instead and worked at the café? That’s amazing, Millie.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about it being amazing. In a strange way it kept me closer to them. It helped me, you know, being busy, doing what they’d always done.’

Jed took another sip of his beer. ‘I can quite see that. I think it’s one of the bravest things I’ve ever heard.’ There was a beat before he added, ‘You must have seen a few changes in the town.’

Perhaps Jed was attuned to her distress or maybe he’d simply wanted to change the subject. Either way, Millie was glad the conversation had taken a more casual tone and agreed. ‘Oh yes. We went through a phase of being popular with surfing dudes; there was a time when the pound was weak and the ferries brought the French and Dutch over in droves and the last invasion was a hippy group who camped out on Mill Field for the summer. They’ve got some sort of commune Honiton way now. As we’re the next stop along from Lyme, we get the visitors who can’t find anywhere to park there and find us instead.’

‘So there’s a lot of tourist trade in the town?’

‘There can be. If we have a good season. If the weather blesses us. And families seem to be rediscovering the traditional English seaside holiday again.’

‘Sandcastles on the beach?’

Millie laughed. ‘Don’t scoff! That sort of thing, absolutely.’

Jed spread his hands. ‘I wouldn’t dream of scoffing, as you so delightfully put it. It sounds wonderful. I’ve never had that kind of holiday.’

Millie gave him another shocked look. Christmas spent with Matron and no beach holidays; what sort of childhood had he had? Her heart exploded with protectiveness for a little boy, no doubt privileged, but who hadn’t seemed to have had the most basic of childhood pleasures. ‘At the next opportunity we’ll make sure we go on the beach and make the biggest, sandiest sandcastle you’ve ever seen.’

‘Even if it snows?’

‘Especially if it snows!’

Jed clinked his glass against hers. ‘You’re on!’

They smiled at one another, aware of the delicious, dizzying fizz of emotions rushing between them. Of the happy sliding into lust. Of maybe edging, blissfully, into something more meaningful.

The moment was only interrupted by Dean slamming their food onto the table in front of them.