by Katie Ginger
As she glanced around at the cottage, at the Christmas decorations everywhere, her tree with its Spiderman-winged, green-faced angel that she’d made with her sweet nephew, she realised she didn’t want to go. She liked it here in her crazy cottage. No, not liked – loved. She loved being home, near her family, as mad as they were. Always nearby, ever supportive. And she loved forging her own path in the world. It had been tough. It would always be tough and she wouldn’t have much money, but the sense of fulfilment she’d had so far had been more than anything she’d felt working on other people’s TV shows. And this was just the start. Who knew where this path would lead her?
Seeing her friends stood in her kitchen, adorned in their silly Christmas headbands, she knew that no matter what the distance between them, they would always be together. They’d come down at weekends or she could go and stay with them in London. Being somewhere else geographically didn’t mean they were out of her life. They’d proved that much already. Esme’s anger at Leo vanished as a calmness took over – her decision had been made. She was moving on from him but not from here. Esme chewed the inside of her cheek, repressing a smile. In the end, the decision she’d thought would be hard had come so easily for her. Moving back in with Leo, trying to rebuild her life in London, was not what she wanted.
Leo caught her smile and a smugness filled his expression. ‘Is that a yes?’
Joe’s head lifted, his eyes pleading. Esme turned to Leo and the smile that had always seemed confident and sexy now looked egotistical and superior. ‘No, it’s not, Leo. It’s a no. A hard no.’
‘What?’
‘I said no, Leo. I don’t want to get back together with you. In fact, I’ll be quite happy if I never see you again. I’m happy here and this is where I want to stay. So you might as well just leave and get back to London as soon as possible. Maybe you can try again with Veruca.’
He shook his head. ‘But why, Esme? I made a mistake. One mistake in all the years we’ve been together and you won’t forgive me?’
‘No, Leo I won’t. It might only have been one mistake, but it was rather a big one. You cheated on me, then on the worst day of my life, when I’d been sacked and was at my lowest, you decided to dump me.’ He stared at her wide-eyed and disbelieving. ‘You couldn’t even be bothered to hang on for a bit until I’d got back on my feet. You kicked me when I was down, Leo, like it didn’t matter. Like I didn’t matter. I can never forgive you for that.’
Leo opened his mouth to speak then closed it again. His face hardened and he gave a curt nod. ‘Fine. But I won’t be coming here again, Esme. This is the only time I’ll be asking you to come back.’
‘Fine with me,’ Esme replied with a shrug. ‘Cheerio.’
After shooting a quick, distasteful look at Joe, Leo left, the gang all waving as he walked past. Mark followed, closing the door behind him.
Esme turned to Joe and he cleared his throat. ‘Esme—’
‘Just hang on a minute, Joe.’ Esme folded her arms over her chest. She wasn’t quite finished with him yet. ‘Angel might not be your girlfriend, but what about all the others I’ve heard about? What about the woman I saw you leave with that night? I can’t pretend that the one-night stands haven’t bothered me.’
‘Esme, I …’ He faltered, shaking his head as he tried to speak. ‘I have had a few, I’ll admit that. You know everything that’s happened – how much I’ve struggled. And all I can say is, it was just a way to feel something else, to try and escape this big black hole that was always trying to pull me in. It never meant anything. You’re the only person who’s meant anything to me since Clara. I never thought I’d love anyone again but then you turned up and … I love you.’
Esme stood with her mouth open. ‘Oh.’
‘But there is one more thing I need to tell you.’
‘Oh no! Really?’ She wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take. And now she’d sent Leo packing and Joe had declared his love, all she could think of was how much she loved him too. And how much she wanted to kiss him.
‘Yeah, sorry.’ Joe nervously reached a hand up and raked it through his hair, his face a picture of apprehension and worry. Esme felt her own fear mounting. ‘The thing is … I’m Penny85.’
Mark, Lola and Helena gasped.
‘You’re what?’Esme shook her head. ‘Sorry … what did you say?’
‘I’m Penny85.’
‘You’re Penny85?’
‘I … yes.’ Joe stepped forwards, reaching out for Esme and taking her hands in his. They were still cold from where he’d driven here without a coat. ‘I didn’t mean to lie to you. I just wanted to make you feel better and get other people to give you a break too.’
Again, all Esme could think to say was, ‘Oh.’ Every thought in her mind had blurred into one. She had no idea how to react and she still really wanted to kiss him.
‘Please don’t be mad. I was just trying to help.’
Esme thought for a moment and then laughed out loud, her whole body shaking as she flung her head back and giggled. She put a hand to her chest as if it would help her calm down. Leo would never have done anything like that for her.
Joe’s face was a mixture of fear and amusement. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.’
‘Is it?’ His lopsided grin returned, the fear draining from his face.
Esme noticed he was stood under the bunch of mistletoe Mark had hung on their last trip down, when they’d decorated the cottage. Joe loved her. He loved her and that woman hadn’t been his girlfriend at all. It had been his cousin. And though she didn’t particularly like the fact he’d had a few one-night stands, they hadn’t really meant anything. She could understand why he’d sought comfort in that way and they were both in their thirties; there were always going to be skeletons in their closets. Esme stepped forward, wrapping her hands around his neck she pulled him in for a kiss – a kiss under the mistletoe – the most amazing kiss she’d ever had. And when he pulled her close, his fingers in her hair, she never wanted him to let go.
Esme finally remembered this was all being broadcast live but with an internal shrug, she realised she couldn’t have cared less. She was in love.
Chapter 30
London
JANUARY
‘Have you seen this?’ announced Felicity, throwing a newspaper onto Sasha’s desk. ‘This is completely outrageous. How come you haven’t issued a statement saying this isn’t true?’
Sasha studied the newspaper, keeping her expression placid. Plastered over the front page was a picture of Felicity looking tired after returning from her trip to the Maldives, and a scathing article exposing her stealing recipes from colleagues and even her housekeeper. She’d run off to the Maldives in early December, hiding away after the disastrous day she’d tried to create the triple-layer chocolate chestnut cake she’d supposedly not stolen from Esme. It had been a disaster and Sasha had been furious. Felicity had clearly hoped that by returning in the New Year, it all would be forgotten and she could slip into the country without anyone noticing.
Sasha did her best to hide the wry smile on her face. Esme had been right all along and luckily, the food critic who wrote the article had been able to find out Felicity’s arrival time somehow. Keeping her voice calm, Sasha said, ‘According to this article, Felicity, you don’t have a cookbook from your grandmother. In fact, according to some secret source, you’ve been stealing recipes from quite a few people.’
Felicity stared at her with barely concealed hatred, tossed her hair and laughed. ‘It’s all lies, Sasha. Surely you can see that?’
‘Was Esme lying?’
Felicity glared.
‘And who is this new secret source?’
‘I have no idea,’ Felicity answered through a tight smile. But Sasha could see in her eyes she did have an idea of who it was. Sasha hoped that person wouldn’t be crossing paths with Felicity anytime soon.
‘If I were you, Feli
city—’ Sasha placed the paper flat on the desk‘—I’d get onto your agent and PR team straightaway before your reputation is completely ruined. I didn’t feel in a confident enough position to issue any sort of statement on behalf of the network.’
‘And what about the show?’
‘We’ll continue filming this series. But we’ll have to wait and see whether we commission another one.’ She held Felicity’s furious gaze. ‘It’ll depend on how the viewing figures are hit by this.’ She gestured to the paper.
‘But this is all nonsense,’ said Felicity, her voice growing louder.
Sasha wasn’t in the least bit intimidated by Felicity’s evil glare or her shouting. Sasha had made her career through hard work, sheer grit and determination. She’d never treated anyone the way Felicity had treated her and the fact that she’d lost one of her best, most talented food techs because Felicity couldn’t think for herself made her beyond angry.
‘You must see this is rubbish, Sasha.’
‘Some might call it a revelation.’
Felicity spun in her Louboutins and stomped out of Sasha’s office. As soon as she had left, Sasha let the smile she had been holding back spread across her face. Serves Felicity right, she thought. But knowing the truth now, having seen and spoken to Felicity face-to-face, Sasha felt a deep regret as to how they had treated Esme. How she had treated Esme. Sasha glanced again at the newspaper before opening her weekly email from the research team. It detailed up-and-coming cookery writers they might want to keep an eye on and one name stood out.
Sasha sat back in her chair determining the best course of action. Esme’s name was there. It seemed she was carving quite a niche for herself online with what they’d called ‘a crazy new presenting style’. She noted her blog was called Grandma’s Kitchen and Sasha smiled. Good for Esme not letting herself be kept down and sticking to her guns. They’d done her a disservice and Sasha was determined to put it right if she could. She picked up the phone and called a producer friend at a rival network.
‘Richard, it’s Sasha.’
‘Hey, Sasha, how are you? Have you thought any more about my offer? Our latest offer was very generous.’
‘I have actually, now you come to mention it.’
‘We’d love to have you here and don’t you think the show I pitched sounded great?’
‘It does,’ Sasha chuckled. She’d been holding out to see if they upped the money they were offering and now they had, and she’d seen Felicity’s response, she was sure. ‘I liked it very much, but I think I have a better idea.’
‘Oh, yeah, what’s that?’
‘It involves a food tech we had called Esme Kendrick and trust me, this girl’s going to be huge. She has a crazy new presenting style, great recipes and she’s making quite a name for herself online. We could be in at the very start of a career that I’m sure is going to go places.’
‘You’re kidding!’ Richard laughed. ‘Sounds good. Let me get my pencil.’
Chapter 31
Sandchester
Esme opened her laptop to begin work on her blog as a strong golden light poured in through the living-room window. The sun was no longer hidden behind white clouds that rushed across the sky, blown along by a strong wind. The temperature had dropped even further and Esme, who couldn’t wear anymore clothes and still move her arms, wore thermals under her jeans, huddling over her computer with the log fire burning.
She and Joe had enjoyed another few dates and things were progressing well. His face looked younger each time she saw him as the lines around his eyes faded. They’d been to his flat and, after some gentle coaxing, had unpacked the remaining boxes in his living room. Amongst his things they had found a picture of him and Clara together. Joe was going to put the photo away, not wanting Esme to feel uncomfortable, but she’d laughed and placed it in the centre of the mantelpiece, saying that Clara had been such a huge part of his life that he should keep her picture out. When they had pictures of their own they wanted to put there, they might think of moving it somewhere else, but she wouldn’t let him hide Clara away when he’d only just let his pain go. They spent days walking through the woods with Joe taking photographs and then evenings together eating her food and drinking wine under blankets on the sofa. And once she had some more money, she was determined to show Joe how wonderful London was. She wasn’t going to give it up entirely, but now she had someone to share it with.
The new year had started well for the blog too. She still needed money, but a few more cake-making jobs had come in and she had just enough to live on for another month or so. Joe had said she could move in with him, but she didn’t want to. She wanted to take it slow and if needed, would move back home, or find a job doing something completely different. But things were looking up. She had some advertising on her blog and was looking into sponsorship opportunities, and her audience was getting bigger every day. The live broadcast on Boxing Day had been a huge hit and had even made it onto YouTube. People had commented how she’d made the right choice, how they wanted more videos of her day-to-day life, how much they admired her for sticking to her guns. It had been a strange experience, and now, every time she posted a new video or blog post, the little community she’d created came together, commenting and discussing their attempts, their lives, their memories, and it filled Esme with hope. Joe wasn’t having to comment as Penny85 (a name he’d made up after his own granny whose name was Penny and was 85) anymore as her subscribers grew and the blog took on a life of its own.
Esme decided to check her emails, and a strange one caught her eye. It had no title other than ‘Private and Confidential’ and was from a name she didn’t recognise. Esme felt her eyes widen and her fingers hovered over the keys. She opened the email. It was from an American publisher. He’d heard about her blog and wanted to talk to her about a book deal. Please could she get in touch and arrange a time to speak to one of their editors.
For a moment Esme couldn’t move. She’d taken a big breath in when opening the email, thinking it was Felicity suing her, even though the papers had found out what she was like and run a story. Esme had noted with delight today’s headline, which indicated she had returned to the Maldives to hideaway again. Which reminded her, Felicity’s former housekeeper had been in touch and wondered if Esme would take a guest blog from her. Juanita had quit after the truth about Felicity had come out and reached out to Esme after returning home to Spain. She was sweet and had some great Spanish recipes to share and bonded as they were by Felicity, Esme wanted to help her if she could.
As excitement coursed through Esme’s body, her muscles tensed and each breath came in quick gulps. She reached for her phone without taking her eyes from the screen and called her parents. When she explained to her mum what the email meant, Carol screamed and shouted at Stephen to open the champagne they were saving for special occasions. ‘We did buy it for your wedding day, but this is so much better seeing as Leo is a useless sack of shit. I like Joe so much more. He’s much more suitable for you. So normal. We think he’ll fit in with the family very well.’
Poor Joe, thought Esme, rolling her eyes. Her parents had been over the moon when she’d told them they were dating and showed them the Boxing Day broadcast. She’d had to be extremely clear that they were taking it slow, blaming her break-up with Leo. She hadn’t told them any more about Clara. Poor Joe might not be able to cope with her mum’s mollycoddling if she did.
After saying goodbye to her mother, she called Mark. He also screamed down the phone. ‘OMG, sweetie, OMFG! I knew you could do it! I bloody knew you could do it! That shows Felicity.’ Esme giggled. ‘I’m so proud of you, Ezzy. So, so proud.’
Mark had promised to call Helena and Lola, leaving Esme free to call Joe. Even though he was at work, he said he’d be right over. Esme couldn’t contemplate emailing them back just yet. What could she say except for yes, in big capital letters? Underlined. Highlighted. In red. Or purple as that was her favourite colour. It was all so unreal. So strange.
When Joe arrived and opened the door, he took a big step forward, put his hands either side of her face and drew her in for a kiss. She fell into his embrace, elated. The world had gone mad, but Esme didn’t care. This time she was quite happy to go along for the ride. ‘I’m so proud of you,’ said Joe. ‘I knew you could do it.’ He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her and spinning her around.
When he put her down she leaned in and kissed him again. ‘I’m glad you knew I could. I didn’t.’
‘So, what’s next for Esme Kendrick then?’
‘Hmm.’ She stood back and stared into his eyes. ‘World domination, maybe?’
Joe glanced at the log fire, and then at Esme’s additional jumpers. ‘Or you could get central heating installed.’
Ready to be swept away with another gorgeous romance from Katie Ginger? Click below to read The Little Theatre on the Seafront.
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Acknowledgements
I’m really quite teary writing these acknowledgements for a couple of reasons.
Firstly, this is the story that got me a book deal with HQ Digital and started this whole amazing journey. HQ Digital are an absolute dream to work with and I’ve enjoyed every second of it. Thank you Emily Kitchin, Abi Fenton and Vikki Moynes for your help and encouragement with this book. And a big thanks to the design team for the amazing cover that made my tummy go all squirmy when I first saw it.
Secondly, I only had the courage to really try and make my dreams come true after my lovely cousin, Dan, passed away. He was only 25 when he died and his loss taught me to stop wishing for things to happen and to actually try and make my dream come true. So I polished up this book and took some chances. You have no idea how long you have on this planet so please, please have the courage to try! I’ve dedicated this book to him and his mum, Angie, my lovely aunty, who also passed away. They’re always in our thoughts, never forgotten.