‘I’m going to decorate a gingerbread man to look like Daddy,’ Lissy went on. ‘And then I’m going to tell him off.’
‘Good plan,’ Sadie murmured. There were a few choice words she’d like to say to Gingerbread Daniel herself.
Chapter Four
‘Look, I’ve said I’m sorry,’ Daniel said, perching on the edge of Sadie’s sofa and folding his arms defensively. ‘I don’t know what more you want from me.’
Sadie glared at him. ‘How about a sense that you actually mean that apology? Or even offer some kind of explanation.’ Her gaze flicked up towards the stairs. ‘Lissy waited all day for you to come and get her – she was really upset when you didn’t show up.’
He ran a hand though his hair. ‘I told you I’m sorry. One drink led to another and before I knew it, we were going for a kebab. I didn’t think you’d appreciate my chilli breath in the early hours of the morning so I went back to my place, that’s all.’
There wasn’t a lot Sadie could say to that; he was right, she wouldn’t have appreciated it. But she didn’t understand why he hadn’t messaged her to explain. Her phone had been resolutely silent throughout the day, apart from the occasional message from Cat.
‘And then what – you slept through my phone calls?’
Daniel winced. ‘Could you not shout? I still have a hangover.’
‘You should have let me know you were okay,’ she insisted, not in the least bit sympathetic. ‘I was worried about you.’
His expression softened a bit. ‘As I said, I’m sorry. And you’re right, I should have let you know.’ He paused. ‘But we wouldn’t even be having this conversation if we all lived in one house. Isn’t it time you thought about coming home?’
The words caused a scythe of anxiety to cut through Sadie. He meant his home – the one they’d all shared before she’d uncovered his affair. And it wasn’t unheard of for Sadie and Lissy to stay at Daniel’s, but he tended to spend more time at the cottage and it had been a long time since either Lissy or Sadie had thought of his big, echoing house as home. And Sadie wasn’t at all sure she was ready to give up her cosy two-bedroomed cottage, with its just-exactly-right kitchen and peaceful atmosphere. This was her home now. Hers and Lissy’s.
‘I have thought about it,’ Sadie said, fighting to keep her voice level. ‘And I’ve told you, we’re not ready for that yet.’
Daniel took her hand. ‘But this place isn’t big enough. Where would we put the nursery, for a start?’
The words set alarm bells ringing in Sadie’s head. The last time they’d spoken about having another baby, she’d told Daniel she’d think about it. She hadn’t, not really, but he obviously had. And he’d taken her reluctant maybe to mean yes.
‘Daniel—’
‘I know, I know, you’re still thinking about it. But we have to plan for the future, Sadie. And whichever way you look at it, this house doesn’t have enough room. Not for a growing family.’
She shook her head in disbelief. ‘We’re not growing.’
‘Lissy is,’ he replied, lightning fast. ‘Or haven’t you noticed that the trousers she had on today are too short for her?’
‘They are not,’ Sadie said.
‘They are. And she needs some new shoes – those trainers are only held together by the laces and she didn’t even have matching socks.’ He took a deep breath and gave her a disappointed look. ‘I’ve only ever been supportive about how hard you work at Smart Cookies but I can’t keep quiet when I see Lissy looking like she’s got dressed in the dark.’
Sadie swallowed her wounded gasp, determined not to let Daniel see how much his comments hurt. ‘That’s not fair,’ she said quietly. ‘I wasn’t expecting to take Lissy with me this morning, remember? She had to get ready in a hurry, which is why her socks didn’t match and I might have picked up an old pair of trousers. But that wasn’t my fault – if you’d been here then I wouldn’t have had to take her at all.’
‘That’s right, blame it all on me,’ Daniel replied, folding his arms. ‘The thing is, I’m not the one standing in the way of us being a proper family, Sadie. You need to think about what you want.’
‘What I want is for Lissy to have a father she can rely on,’ Sadie retorted, trying not to raise her voice.
Daniel’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’m not the one working every weekend. And I’m not the one who lost her in a busy shopping centre. Just think about that before you call me unreliable.’
This time, Sadie couldn’t stop herself from gasping. ‘How dare you?’
He shook his head. ‘You can’t cope on your own – that’s one of the reasons we got back together in the first place. And isn’t it better to live together in one house than waste money on two? We could rent this one out, earn a nice bit of money for a family holiday and give Lissy some quality time.’
Sadie heard the words but they whirled around her head, barely making sense. Daniel earned more than enough money to pay for a family holiday if that was what he wanted to do; why did he need her to rent out the cottage? And why was he implying she’d be a bad parent if she didn’t?
‘It’d be for us, Sadie,’ he said, reaching for her hand again. ‘You, me and our kids. What do you say – will you move back in with me?’
His blue eyes were so wide and appealing that she was almost convinced. But then she replayed the words in her head – our kids – and she knew it would be a mistake to agree. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea at the moment. Sorry, Daniel.’
His gaze hovered between shock and incredulity. It hardened as he dropped her hand and stood up. ‘Then I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to stay here tonight.’
Heart pounding, Sadie took a deep breath and rose. ‘And while we’re being honest, I don’t think it’s the right time to consider another baby, either.’
‘I don’t suppose it matters what I want, does it?’ he said, his lip curling. ‘Only what’s right for you.’
‘Daniel,’ she said, laying a hand on his sleeve but he shook her off.
‘I thought we wanted the same thing,’ he said, and she saw pain flit across his eyes. ‘But if you can’t even bear to live with me, what future do we have?’
He turned on his heel and walked out, leaving Sadie staring after him. Moments later, the front door slammed and she heard the roar of his car as he sped away. And then she heard the gentle thud of small feet as Lissy appeared at the top of the stairs.
‘Where’s Daddy gone?’ she asked, her face round and pale.
‘Back to his house,’ Sadie said, trying to sound calm and reassuring. ‘He’s tired so he’s going to sleep there tonight.’
Lissy yawned. ‘I’m tired.’
‘Then go back to bed,’ Sadie said, half-exasperated.
‘Dippy wants you to tuck him in,’ Lissy said. ‘Will you?’
And Sadie was filled with a rush of love for her daughter. ‘Of course I will.’ Climbing the stairs, she slipped her hand into Lissy’s. ‘Would you mind if I tuck you in at the same time?’
The little girl gave a sleepy smile. ‘No, Mummy. I wouldn’t mind that at all.’
*
‘This is nice,’ Jaren said approvingly as he glanced out of the balcony that overlooked the canal, taking in the early evening view. ‘How long have you lived here?’
Cat handed him a glass of water and frowned thoughtfully. ‘Almost a year. I moved in last August.’
The Dutchman nodded. ‘Well, I like the view. It’s not a houseboat but it’s pretty close.’
Cat grinned. ‘Damn right it’s not a houseboat. When the toilet flushes here, that’s the last I ever see of the contents.’
Jaren threw her a pained look. ‘I thought we agreed never to mention that again?’
‘You’re right,’ Cat agreed, glancing at the bulging jute carrier bag he’d brought with him. ‘So, what’s on the menu?’
‘I am going to teach you the noble art of making garnalencocktail,’ he said. ‘It’s a shrimp cocktail starter in a
whisky sauce, served on a bun. And afterwards, I might share my grandmother’s secret pancake recipe with you. But, of course, then I’d—’
‘Have to kill me?’ Cat said, her eyebrows raised.
‘Be quite full, I was going to say,’ Jaren went on with a teasing smile. ‘Obviously, things are a lot more cut-throat in the restaurants of Paris.’
Cat laughed. ‘Obviously. Your garnalencocktail sounds delicious.’
He tipped his head, accepting the compliment. ‘And what are you going to cook for me?’
Mentally, Cat flicked through her knowledge of Dutch cuisine; it was fair to say that apart from pancakes and waffles, they weren’t exactly renowned for having recipe books packed with world-beating recipes. She seemed to remember a lot of potato dishes, and a split-pea soup that was filling but not especially adventurous. But the point of this evening wasn’t to cook something that Jaren would recognise from his life back in the Netherlands, it was to teach him something he didn’t already know. The idea was that they would each show the other a technique or recipe that they hadn’t tried before. And that gave Cat a serious advantage, even though they’d both agreed it wasn’t a competition.
‘How do you feel about Thai green curry?’ she asked.
Jaren’s brown eyes gleamed. ‘I love it.’
‘Then that’s our main course. Ready?’
He bent to collect the jute bag. ‘Ready.’
They worked well together, moving around each other in Cat’s compact kitchen with such synchronicity that it almost felt as though they were dancing. Jaren told her that the tastiest shrimp of all were the grey shrimp caught in the North Sea. ‘That’s what we have here, although as you can see, they are so small that they have to be shelled by hand.’
Once the whisky sauce was complete, Cat showed him how to layer the flavours in the Thai green curry so that they would unfold in waves when eaten, combining to create a curry that was fresh and fiery at the same time. By the time the sauce had thickened around the morsels of chicken, both Cat and Jaren were starving. They sat down to eat, each complimenting the other on their recipes.
‘We made a good team,’ Jaren said, scraping the last of the curry onto his fork and eating it. ‘You can be my assistant any time.’
Cat smiled. ‘Sure. And I’ll consider letting you be my sous-chef next time I have a dinner party.’
Jaren raised an eyebrow. ‘But you haven’t tasted my pancake recipe yet. Like I said, it’s my grandmother’s recipe and the secret of my success.’
Cat pushed her chair back and began to clear the plates. ‘Then what are we waiting for?’
She had to admit, the pancakes were good; their lighter-than-air crispiness was pure heaven on her taste buds. But she enjoyed stepping back to watch Jaren cook even more; he gave off an air of being at home in the kitchen that she found very attractive. Once or twice, he looked up and caught her staring. The first time she looked away. The next time she didn’t.
‘So,’ Jaren said, as they sat beside each other on the sofa, full and satisfied. ‘That was fun.’
‘It was,’ Cat agreed. ‘You were right about the pancake recipe – it’s amazing.’
He nodded. ‘My grandmother is an amazing woman. I think you’d like her.’
Cat studied him from the corner of her eye, remembering how he’d told her that he’d been raised by his grandmother after his mother’s death. ‘I think I’d like her too,’ she said softly. ‘And not just for her pancakes.’
Jaren smiled. ‘You seem happier – more settled. Did you talk to Sadie?’
‘I did,’ Cat said. ‘She told me to take some time away from Castle Court, which is why you haven’t seen me around as much.’
‘The change obviously agrees with you.’ He hesitated and glanced sideways at her. ‘Are you still thinking about applying for other jobs?’
There was something unreadable behind his eyes. Cat hardly dared hope that it was the same spark of attraction she felt. ‘Not at this moment in time,’ she said truthfully.
‘But later,’ he persisted. ‘Is there a chance you might leave Chester for good?’
It wasn’t a question she could answer; who knew what the future held? But right then, all she wanted was to be close to Jaren. ‘It depends.’
‘On what?’
She leaned nearer. ‘On whether there’s a good enough reason to stay.’
His brown eyes were fixed on hers. ‘Is this a good enough reason?’ he said, closing the final few centimetres between them.
The feel of his mouth on hers was unlike anything Cat had felt before, soft and gentle but passionate at the same time. Her eyes drifted shut as she eased into him and felt one hand tenderly brush her cheek. A slow curl of interest rose inside her as his lips moved against hers, bursting into full-blooded desire when he pressed harder. Her mouth opened and the kiss deepened.
Cat had no idea how long they stayed that way, slowly teasing and exploring each other. But when they did finally part, she felt bereft by his absence.
‘That was . . .’ she began, then trailed off.
He smiled gently. ‘Unexpectedly good? Better than the pancakes?’
Cat couldn’t help smiling back. ‘Definitely better than the pancakes. With all due respect to your grandmother.’
Jaren laughed. ‘She’d say that was exactly as it should be.’ He paused to give Cat a searching look. ‘So shall we do it again sometime?’
‘I’d like that,’ Cat said, feeling a sudden burst of happiness. ‘I really would.’
*
Cat hugged the memory of her kiss with Jaren close over the next few days. He’d left just before midnight, promising to take her out on a real date soon, and the thought gave her the courage to brave Castle Court once again.
The early morning sun was cresting the rooftops when she arrived on Tuesday, bathing the oak tree at the heart of the Court in beams of brilliant gold. There was no breeze; the weather forecast promised heat all day long, but Cat fancied she could hear the dark-green leaves rustle as she paused underneath. She loved the peace and quiet of the paved courtyard at this time of day, when the shop windows glowed with temptation and there was no one else around to break the silence. No one, that was, except Greg.
He was outside La Clé d’Argent, fumbling with the keys. Cat watched him for a moment, frowning as several plastic folders slithered from his grasp. He muttered a curse in French that carried across the still air, and shifted an overloaded rucksack further onto his shoulder as he picked the folders up from the floor. Cat’s frown deepened. There was something furtive about his behaviour; was that a strongbox under his arm? And what on earth was he doing there so early? The bistro didn’t open until midday and even the food deliveries didn’t arrive at dawn in the summer. Besides, Greg didn’t appear to be taking a delivery. It looked more as though he was leaving.
Cat made a decision. Stepping out from the shelter of the tree, she cleared her throat. ‘Need any help, Greg?’
She was sure she heard him yelp as the folders tumbled to the ground again. He turned around and his expression soured immediately. ‘Oh, it’s you. No, I think you’ve done enough.’
Cat stopped in front of him, her eyes roaming curiously across the items he carried. ‘What exactly is it you think I’ve done now?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ He gestured to an A4 sheet of paper stuck in the window.
Mystified, Cat moved close enough to read the untidy handwritten scrawl. ‘Closed until further notice?’ she said, blinking.
‘I hope you’re pleased with yourself,’ the Frenchman said. ‘That poisonous review you set up was the last nail in the coffin.’
Cat waved an impatient hand. ‘I told you that had nothing to do with me.’ Her gaze slid to the strongbox that rested on his well-padded hip. ‘But that still doesn’t explain what you’re doing with that.’
Defensiveness flashed across his features. ‘I’m only taking what’s mine. I built this business up from scratch – I deserve
to be rewarded, even if Robert de Beauvoir thinks otherwise.’
The mention of the old restaurateur created a light bulb in Cat’s brain. ‘You don’t own La Clé d’Argent,’ she breathed. ‘You just ran it on Robert’s behalf. Of course.’
‘Not for Robert,’ Greg sneered. ‘For François. And don’t worry, I’ll be sure to make sure he knows about your part in the failure of the business.’
François de Beauvoir was Robert’s son and Cat’s old boss at La Perle; he was the one who’d caused her to walk out of her job and had then tried to sue her for breach of a non-disclosure agreement, fuelled by whispers and lies from Greg. But Robert was the real brains behind the de Beauvoir restaurant empire and he’d stepped in personally to put a stop to his son’s vindictive behaviour. And Cat still had his business card.
‘I’d like to wish you good luck,’ she said, stepping back from Greg without smiling. ‘I think you’re going to need it.’
‘I’m not the one who’s going to need luck,’ Greg said, glowering at her bitterly. ‘François is going to ruin you.’
Cat summoned up a carefree laugh. ‘He tried once and it didn’t end well. I don’t fancy his chances a second time.’
She left him standing there, spluttering and struggling with his ill-gotten gains, and strode purposefully towards Smart Cookies. It was too early to call Paris yet but Cat intended to be on the phone to Robert the moment it was decent to ring. She had no intention of letting Greg get away with anything.
Chapter Five
Earl’s eyes twinkled as he regarded Sadie across the counter in Smart Cookies later that morning.
‘Can it be true? Has Greg really pulled a Loki?’
Sadie blinked. Both the American owners of the Bus Stop diner were keen film and TV buffs and often threw fandom references into conversation. Most of them seemed to relate to Star Wars but this one was lost on her. ‘Sorry?’
‘Loki,’ Earl repeated. ‘Evil genius, tries to steal the secrets of Asgard to use against his enemies, often makes terrible choices?’
Starry Skies at Castle Court Page 4