‘Tilly is adorable.’
‘She is. I’m very lucky.’ Goosebumps rose on his arms. He was lucky to have Tilly and he acknowledged it every day. ‘She’s an amazing child.’
‘Is her mother… around?’ Fran asked before taking a bite of her panini. She winced as she did so and the cheese stretched out and flopped onto her chin. ‘Hot!’ She waved a hand in front of her mouth.
Ethan laughed as she pulled it away then wiped her chin with a napkin.
‘Something else to know about me, I guess… I’m a messy eater.’ She rolled her eyes.
‘No worries.’ Ethan shook his head. At least if he ended up with cheese on his chin, Fran wouldn’t be bothered. Melanie had been so uptight about things like that. Some of the tension in his shoulders loosened; he had a feeling he could relax with Fran, even become her friend. ‘So… uh… I was a chef in a restaurant chain but there were cutbacks and I was made redundant, and, being the breadwinner, what with Tilly being far too young to work and all that…’ He winked at Fran. ‘I had to look for work that I could fit around the school run and school holidays. And… you asked about her mother, well, no, she’s not around and hasn’t been for two years. She does support Tilly financially, but rarely puts in an appearance.’
‘Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.’ Fran put her panini down and wiped her hands on her napkin. ‘That must be so hard on Tilly and you.’
He shrugged and moved his own panini around the plate, then broke the end off and watched as the cheese stretched out between the pieces. ‘It’s been challenging at times but, hey, you know… you just have to get on with it.’
That old chestnut!
If only it was that simple. He did get on with it but it still hurt. It was exhausting being the sole carer of a young child, being both mum and dad and worrying that if anything ever happened to him, then Tilly would be alone because he couldn’t imagine Melanie ever stepping forwards to care for her child. It just wasn’t Melanie. And his father wasn’t exactly grandfather of the year, so that wasn’t a viable option either. When his mind started racing along this path, it made him feel ill, so he usually tried to put a halt to it immediately.
And it was far too much to share with Fran when they barely knew each other.
‘Well, I really admire you.’ Fran reached out and touched his hand, then her eyes widened a fraction and she pulled her hand back. ‘You’re clearly doing a great job. I couldn’t do it.’
Ethan looked at her curiously and she straightened in her chair.
‘What I mean is… I’m going to be… uh… a mum, but… uh… being single and that as a parent and managing as you do must be hard. Well done, though, because Tilly is wonderful. Of course I can do it, though, I mean… I have to do it now. Don’t I?’
Ethan nodded in spite of his confusion at Fran’s comments, then bit into his panini. Warm cheese and spicy ginger and lime chutney teased his taste buds and he moaned with pleasure.
‘Good, right?’ Fran asked.
‘Really good.’ He nodded.
‘Where is Tilly’s mum? If you don’t mind me asking.’
‘Dubai.’ Ethan wrinkled his nose. ‘A long way from Tilly. She Skypes and texts and calls but that’s about the extent of her maternal contact. She’s very busy with her career and ambition to take over the world.’
‘But you’re in Penhallow Sands now and I’m sure you and Tilly will be happy here.’
‘I hope so, Fran, I really do.’ He took another bite of panini and chewed.
‘Didn’t you have family in… was it Bath?’
‘Yes, we lived in Bath. My father lives there some of the time but he also spends a lot of the year in Majorca. Ever since my mum passed away, he’s been unable to sit still for long. I think that being in perpetual motion stops him dwelling on his grief.’
‘Sorry about your mum,’ Fran said softly.
‘Thanks.’ Ethan blinked hard, not willing to allow himself to feel that sadness right now. ‘At least here, I have my aunt and uncle and my two rather loud, warm and ostentatious cousins.’
‘Harper and Scarlett!’ Fran giggled. ‘They’re lovely girls.’
‘So you know them? I guess everyone knows everyone around here. Yes, they are lovely, but when they’re nearby, you certainly know it. Especially Scarlett because she likes everyone in a ten-mile radius to know she’s around.’
‘Yes, you’re right about it being a small village. Everyone knows everyone or at least someone who knows them. I’m older than they are, so wasn’t in school with them, but I’ve gone to the tea shop at Rosewood for years and I can remember Harper and Scarlett at about eight and five, running around the farmyard chasing each other, and if I think right back, I remember when they were both babies. I even babysat for them a few times when I was sixteen, on the rare occasions when your aunt and uncle went out. I’m glad you’ll have company now, Ethan. It’s hard being alone.’
He met her warm gaze and nodded. ‘It really is a close village, isn’t it? And thank you. I’m glad to be here.’ Did Fran always say what was on her mind? It was refreshing to speak to a woman who didn’t play games. Fran didn’t seem like a player at all. He could be wrong, of course, as he barely knew her, but she didn’t seem to be hiding anything. There must be a partner on the scene because he couldn’t imagine anyone finding Fran, making love to her then leaving her. She was just… too good for that.
‘Are you… uh… do you have a…’ He shook his head. ‘Of course you do. What am I thinking?’ He tapped his forehead with the palm of his hand.
‘Do I have a what?’
‘It doesn’t matter. When are you due?’
Fran had been taking a sip of coffee and now she spluttered and coffee shot from her mouth and out of her nose. She grabbed her napkin and covered her face while she coughed.
‘Sorry! Are you okay?’ He handed her some more napkins.
She waved a hand. ‘I’m fine,’ she murmured from behind the napkin, then coughed some more. She wiped her face then screwed up the napkins and put them onto her empty plate. ‘I told you I’m messy. I… uh… don’t have a due date yet. It’s too early to know.’
‘That early, eh?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s all estimated anyway. They can’t tell exactly when baby will arrive.’
‘No.’ Fran picked up her mug and slowly took a drink, clearly worried about a repeat performance of choking. ‘They can’t.’
He wanted to ask about her partner or the baby’s father, but he also felt as if that was intrusive, as she hadn’t volunteered any information about it. Also, he was worried that it would seem as though he was interested – he was so unfamiliar with speaking to strange women and hadn’t dated since way before Melanie – so he didn’t know what was appropriate and what could be misunderstood. Better not to ask that question and to wait and see if she told him anyway. Not that it mattered, because even if she was single, she was pregnant and Ethan was not looking for romance, even if she was – by some strange coincidence, or by way of a miracle – attracted to him. And he had Tilly and no intention of bringing anyone into his daughter’s life if there was the slightest chance that they wouldn’t be sticking around. On days like this, more than ever, he wished his mum was still alive because he could speak to her about all of this; she always knew the right thing to say and do and he missed her sage advice and her reassurance badly.
He finished his lunch then drained his coffee and wiped his hands on his napkin. It was probably time to go and that thought filled him with disappointment. He didn’t feel ready to say goodbye to Fran just yet.
‘I don’t suppose you have some room left for dessert, do you?’ Fran asked, pulling a menu from under the seaglass vase. ‘Shell bakes the most amazing cakes and makes the best knickerbocker glories, and I know it’s winter, but I can eat ice cream anytime.’
‘The most amazing cakes, eh? As a chef who’s now local to the village, it’s important to check out the competition. And yes, I d
o have room,’ Ethan said, patting his flat stomach. ‘I always have room for dessert… especially ice cream.’
Fran’s eyes twinkled behind her glasses.
‘That’s what I like to hear.’ She winked at him. ‘Me too!’
* * *
Fran gazed at the festive knickerbocker glory on the table in front of her. The tall glass was filled with cinnamon cherry sauce, kirsch-soaked cherries, cream, vanilla, ginger and chocolate ice cream and was topped with chocolate sprinkles and two triangular gingerbread biscuits. It looked amazing.
‘Are you going to eat that or just stare at it?’ Ethan said from behind his own knickerbocker glory.
‘Oh, I’m planning on eating it but I wanted to prepare myself first,’ Fran replied.
Ethan closed his eyes as he tasted the first spoonful of the dessert and festive flavours danced on his tongue. ‘It’s soooo good.’
‘Isn’t it?’ Fran spooned some of her own into her mouth and smacked her lips. ‘Shell makes the cinnamon cherry sauce and gingerbread herself and they’re just divine.’
Ethan nodded, his mouth too full to speak.
Fran had really enjoyed her time with Ethan at Shell’s Shack. Seeing him at the school had been a surprise but she’d been glad when he’d agreed to come for a coffee, mainly because he’d seemed quite low leaving Tilly at the school and Fran hated to see anyone struggling. If she could help in any way, she would, and helping Ethan came with the bonus fact that he was gorgeous and – she now knew – a very nice man. They’d talked a lot since they arrived at the cafe and Fran found that Ethan was easy to talk to, she felt relaxed with him and she could be herself. Of course, there was no pressure like there would be if it was a date or anything like that. Yes, she was attracted to him, but had no idea if that was reciprocated, and anyway, it wouldn’t matter because he was a single father with what sounded like a significant amount of baggage and, more specifically, he thought Fran was pregnant.
She sighed inwardly as she spooned more fluffy cream into her mouth. Thank goodness for comfort eating! And the cream was comforting, as was the ice cream and the rich, dark cinnamon cherry sauce.
‘What’s your favourite fruit?’ Ethan asked, dragging Fran from her musings.
‘Uh… probably cherries and strawberries. I adore them both.’ She nodded.
‘Have you ever been strawberry picking?’
‘Not since I was a teenager.’
‘Me neither but I’d like to go again and take Tilly.’
‘I don’t think you’ll find anywhere this time of year.’ Fran looked out of the window at the bright sky, but she knew that it was cold and that the wind was icy today. When it blew in off the sea, it could numb your fingers and nose in minutes and make your eyes water. Of course, it could also clear your head just as quickly, and Fran had always enjoyed that part of living at the coast, especially on her early morning dog walks.
‘Ha! No, I doubt that too, but perhaps in the summer we could go together.’ His eyes widened. ‘I mean… that is if you’d like to go.’
‘I’d love to! It’s so much fun getting out in the fields and picking your own food with the sun on your head and shoulders and the scent of fresh fruit on your sticky fingers. There’s nothing like the taste of fresh strawberries. We could make a day of it and have a picnic. As long as you’re still here.’
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ He frowned.
‘Oh… I don’t know. You are planning on staying here long-term then, are you?’
He nodded. ‘I can’t keep moving around because that’s not fair on Tilly. She needs stability so I’m aiming to settle here close to family.’
Fran smiled, warmth filling her at the thought that Ethan would be in Penhallow Sands in the summer and beyond.
‘You’ll be quite far along by the summer though, won’t you?’ he said, dragging her from her vision of wandering through strawberry fields with Ethan holding her hand, red strawberry juice on her lips and chin, sweet and fragrant, ready for him to kiss it away. ‘You might not fancy traipsing around a field in the baking heat then.’
‘That’s true.’ Fran swallowed hard. Of course, if she were pregnant, she would indeed be heavily pregnant by then. She wanted to tell this sweet and kind man that she was not expecting, that she would be free to roam around a field with him and his daughter picking strawberries that they could then eat with thick, golden-crusted clotted cream, but she couldn’t. Telling Ethan the truth now would be a betrayal of her best friend and that was the last thing she wanted to do, because if word got out that it was Holly who was pregnant, then she knew Holly would have her own problems to deal with and Fran would feel terrible. They wouldn’t be end-of-the-world problems, but Holly’s granny, Glenda, would suffer a terrible shock if it all went wrong, Holly’s wedding would be overshadowed and Fran would feel like the world’s worst best friend. It was no sacrifice really, not at all, or it wouldn’t be if she didn’t have to deceive Ethan. Not that she thought there was a chance of anything growing between her and the handsome single dad, because that wasn’t how things worked, was it? Or did they? Other people met someone they liked and found attractive, dated them and that sometimes led to a relationship, but it had never happened for Fran up to this point, so she didn’t see how or why it would happen now. And that was fine; she was happy being footloose and fancy-free. Eating her strawberries and cream alone.
Wasn’t she?
If someone had asked her if she liked being single last year, last week, hell, even yesterday, she’d have said she loved her life exactly as it was, but Ethan Clarke had thrown something into the equation that she’d never come across before: major attraction. She was finding herself drawn to him and his story, wanting to know more about him and to – hopefully – spend more time with him.
‘That was incredible.’ Ethan licked his lips and sat back in his chair. ‘I’ll have to bring Tilly here to try one of these as I’m sure she’d love it.’
‘I’m sure she would.’
Something passed over his face then and Fran’s stomach clenched.
‘What is it?’
‘I was just wondering how she’s getting on. Here I am enjoying myself and I can’t help but feel a bit guilty because my little girl is at school, possibly feeling anxious and insecure, trying to settle in…’
‘There won’t be any trying about it.’ Fran shook her head. ‘She’ll have at least two best friends already and probably about ten invites for tea. People around here are like that and Tilly will have no problem settling in. That’s the thing with a small village… all the mums and dads will want to make Tilly – and you – welcome. Heck, Ethan, you’ll probably have invites for tea too!’
He laughed.
Fran could understand Ethan’s concerns and knew that it must be difficult for him bringing his daughter up alone. How Tilly’s mother could have walked away from her, Fran didn’t know, but she also didn’t want to judge a woman she didn’t know. However, Tilly and Ethan seemed lovely and there must have been something wrong for Ethan’s ex to decide that she couldn’t be with her family. Or perhaps it was a matter of choosing her career over her husband and daughter. There would be far more to it than Fran had been told, no doubt, and every story had two sides to it. After all, Holly had fled Penhallow Sands last year after having her heart broken and she hadn’t even told Fran (her best friend since they were small) and when she returned she had a baby. People went through their own difficulties and had to navigate life in the way that was best for them. Sometimes that meant running away.
And yet, looking at Ethan now, seeing his concern for his little girl, made something in Fran flutter. He was kind and caring, quite shy in some ways and also sweet, and she knew she would find it very difficult to leave him if he was hers.
Not that that would ever become a reality, of course. Men like Ethan went for leggy blondes with perfect hair and nails and witty conversation, didn’t they? Fran was a Welsh-Italian girl, with her heart firmly grounded in Penhall
ow Sands, and she was happier in her pyjamas, snuggling with her dogs on the sofa and watching a TV series than she’d be out in a fancy restaurant dressed up to the nines. She was content with herself and her way of life, and didn’t need to have her comfort zone upturned – not by a man, not by a child, in fact, not by anything.
Fran finished her dessert then set her spoon in the glass.
‘I really enjoyed that.’ She felt certain that her waistline must have expanded in the last hour and rested her hands on it, as comfortable with her feminine curves as she had always been.
‘Me too.’
‘Are you full now?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I think I am. Well done, Fran, that has to be a first!’
‘There’s a first time for everything, right?’
He held her gaze over the table and smiled. Something crackled between them like an electric spark. Goosebumps rose all over Fran’s body.
‘Absolutely.’
And Fran found herself sinking into the depths of his green eyes as she would into a warm swimming pool. There was a first time for everything, and right now, being here with Ethan, was the first time she could ever remember feeling just like this.
Chapter 6
Ethan rubbed the butter and flower lightly between his thumbs and fingertips, creating the breadcrumb texture that pastry required. He was careful not to let the mixture settle against his skin, aware that heat would ruin it. There was a very fine line to creating perfect pastry or ending up with a heavy, sticky mess.
‘Once that’s ready, pop it in the fridge and we’ll have a cuppa, shall we?’ Audrey said, peering at him over the tops of her glasses. Ethan had noticed that she didn’t wear the glasses all the time, but needed them for reading and close work.
‘That sounds good.’ He nodded.
‘Will you want some lunch too?’
‘Oh, no thanks. I ate in the village after I dropped Tilly off.’
The Christmas Tea Shop at Rosewood Page 7