‘I have to do something to make him love me again,’ Colleen continued. ‘What can I do?’
Millie gripped the worktop, her head beginning to spin. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps you could talk to him,’ she said weakly.
‘He wouldn’t listen. Once he’s made his mind up about something he doesn’t change it.’
‘But this isn’t choosing where to go on holiday or how many barrels of beer to order in… This is your marriage. He has to listen. How long have you been together?’
‘Thirty years.’
‘See… there you go. Who would throw thirty years away without talking about it first?’
‘But you could give me a love potion!’ Colleen blurted out, before clapping a hand to her mouth.
Millie tried to speak but nothing would come out. Was this some sort of cruel karma?
‘You could, right?’ Colleen said quietly. ‘I mean, you’ve been giving everyone else things to help them.’
‘Colleen… I don’t know what you mean.’
‘The potions.’
‘They’re not potions, they’re just simple herbal remedies.’
‘Ruth told me you do magic.’
Millie stared at her. She had certainly misjudged Ruth.
‘There is nothing magical in what I do. I can’t make people fall in love or stay in love. I’m interested in old remedies and the uses for plants and herbs that our ancestors used on a daily basis, that’s all,’ Millie said, fighting to keep the bitterness from her tone. If she’d had that sort of power, she wouldn’t have hesitated to use it; Michael would still be alive and she’d still be blissfully happy in Millrise in the house they had once shared.
‘Then why does everyone say your potions are magic? Is it a lie – don’t they work?’
All Millie needed to do was confirm Colleen’s doubts and it would all be forgotten. She could get on with her cooking while she lent a sympathetic ear and Colleen could cry all the pain from her system. It would be that easy. But Millie could not deny the help she might be able to give someone when they asked so desperately for it, even if her life depended on it.
‘I’m not saying it’s a lie; but there is no potion I know of that can change the path of love. Love won’t be ruled, not by me or anyone else. It doesn’t answer just because you call it. Love will do only what love wants to do.’
Colleen thought for a moment. ‘But you could make him see me in a different light. Perhaps if he fancied me again he might fall in love later?’
‘You can do that just as well yourself.’
‘How? I’m already made up to the nines every day and I always dress as well as I can. I get my hair done every week, have facials… I can’t do any more than I do already to look good.’
‘Perhaps you two could spend some quality time together; he might fancy you again if he remembers what it was he liked about you at the start… I’m talking about more than clothes and hair; I mean the way you made him feel when you laughed at his jokes, your kindness and sweet nature.’
Well…’ Colleen said, clearly becoming exasperated. ‘Could you give me something just to smooth the wrinkles a little? Anything would be a start.’
Millie sighed. She would get more sense from a brick wall at the moment. Perhaps she could fob Colleen off with a harmless herbal brew. If half the battle was believing, then perhaps if she thought Millie’s placebo was doing the trick, the confidence it gave her might actually make her more attractive to Doug. It was probably the only way she was going to get Colleen off her back.
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
Colleen beamed. ‘Thank you! I always said you were a lovely girl.’
‘But,’ Millie added, ‘please don’t tell anyone about this…’ She had visions of villagers queuing up to satisfy their every heart’s desire and was beginning to feel rather sick. ‘I’ll bring something over for you later.’ She suppressed a huge, frustrated sigh.
‘No… I’ll come to you. I wouldn’t want Doug getting wind of it.’
Millie wondered whether Colleen had inadvertently stumbled on the real problem with their marriage, in that one duplicitous sentence. But she had a feeling Colleen wouldn’t see that even if she tried to explain it to her. ‘Alright,’ she agreed. ‘Just remember, you can’t tell anyone else.’
‘I won’t,’ Colleen said, her tears all dried up now and a spring back in her step. ‘It’ll be our little secret.’
Millie was almost certain that was exactly what Ruth had said.
13
A note lay on the floor as Millie pushed open the front door of the old bakery and tumbled over the threshold. A day of baking, listening to Colleen, then later helping out with the lunchtime rush in the pub and having to pretend to Doug that she knew nothing about their problems when he returned from the market, had taken its toll on her already frayed nerves. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. And she still had Colleen’s fake potion to prepare. It wouldn’t take a great deal of skill but it had to be convincing.
She eyed the note anxiously for a moment as she closed the door behind her. It could be from anyone – she left her mobile phone behind all the time (not that she was particularly fond of it anyway) and Michael had often joked that he would have to send her messages by owl whenever he wanted something.
After a long moment of indecision, she bent to retrieve the carefully folded piece of paper and opened it up.
I called your phone but I think you were out of charge or it was off so I popped round hoping to see you. I just want to know that you’re alright. Dylan says he’s worried too.
Call me
Jasmine. x
Millie let the paper fall onto the front counter and began searching through boxes to find what she needed for Colleen. Dried herbs would do, she decided; some sort of chamomile infusion would be good to calm her down as well as giving her a bit of Dutch courage.
By eight thirty a grateful Colleen had been to collect her concoction and all Millie wanted to do, as she saw her out of the door, was fall into bed. It had been a long day, on virtually no sleep, and she was exhausted. There were things to do – there were always things to do these days – but they would have to wait. She was just about to lock up when there was a knock at the door. Millie froze, her key halfway to the keyhole. She waited. It could be Rowena. Of course, it could also be Jasmine. The idea of that pained Millie almost as much, but she knew it would still be a bad idea to answer the door. She needed to keep some distance for now, to keep Jasmine safe.
Just as the silence allowed her to think she had got away with it, a face appeared at the bay window. Millie’s hand flew to her chest.
‘Ruth…’ she said as she yanked the door open and called her in. ‘You gave me a heart attack.’ Glancing quickly up and down the street she shut the door again and turned to face her neighbour. ‘What can I do for you?’ she asked, trying to keep her tone civil. Her patience was fast waning with Ruth, who, in one way or another, had caused her quite a bit of trouble these last few weeks.
‘I haven’t seen you much this week,’ Ruth said. ‘You’re always so busy… and Dylan is always here.’
‘He’s been helping me with the renovations, as you know. And we invited you in for tea and cake on Thursday afternoon, remember?’
Ruth squinted, as if it took all her brainpower to recall the event. And then she smiled. ‘So you did. It was that lovely coconut sponge you make.’
It had been carrot cake, but some things were easier left uncorrected. ‘Was there something in particular you needed me for now?’ Millie asked. ‘Only I was planning to get an early night.’
‘Ooh, with Dylan?’
‘No!’ Millie squeaked. ‘What on earth would make you think that?’
‘He’s been here so much I thought you two were a couple now.’
‘He’s working for me, remember?’
‘And the way he looks at you…’ Ruth pursed her lips and gave the most disturbing wink Millie had ever seen.
/> ‘He can look all he wants,’ Millie replied primly. ‘Now, is that all you came to see me about?’
Ruth looked blank for a moment. ‘I think it might be… No, wait… I’ve just seen Colleen come away from here. She looked very happy. Did you sort her little problem with Doug?’
Were there no secrets in this village? More importantly, how did the woman with the biggest mouth always get to unearth them?
‘She was a little upset earlier, and I sent her away with a chamomile brew, that’s all.’
‘I’ve brought some whisky,’ Ruth continued.
Millie began to herd her subtly towards the door. ‘I really am shattered tonight, Ruth… Do you mind terribly if I take a rain check on that? Tomorrow night, eh?’
Ruth was still talking when Millie shut the front door, her neighbour on the other side. Ruth didn’t mean any harm and she was a lovely lady. Millie knew all this but it didn’t make it any easier to listen to her, especially tonight. She thought about Dylan, that niggling doubt returning, the stab of regret, the realisation that she had been falling for him, that he might have been the one to save her and she him… It was all too much to bear. After hastily turning the great iron key in the door, Millie ran upstairs and fell, weeping, onto her bed.
‘I’m going to see if Millie is ok.’ Jasmine grabbed her keys from the kitchen counter. ‘It’s been bothering me all night.’
Rich swallowed a mouthful of buttered toast. He glanced down at Jasmine’s plate, where her breakfast lay virtually untouched, and then back at her again. ‘Now? She might not even be up yet.’
‘Yes, Rich, now. What if something bad has happened to her?’
‘What is going to happen to her in Honeybourne? Is she going to get attacked by one of the ducks from the pond?’
Jasmine pursed her lips. ‘Very funny.’
‘She doesn’t need you poking your head in every ten minutes. Maybe she wants to be alone so she’s politely ignoring you. Not everyone wants to be part of your social circle all the time.’
‘I don’t poke my head in every ten minutes. And I’m not stupid, I realise people need their space. I just get the feeling something has happened. You heard Dylan the other night – he said she was fine until that Rowena woman arrived and then suddenly she was all cagey.’
‘Maybe she’s her girlfriend.’
Jasmine’s frown deepened. ‘If you’re not going to say anything constructive then you can shut up.’
‘I just think you’re getting yourself worried about nothing. Millie is a grown woman and if she needs help she’ll come to you for it.’
‘That’s just it, I don’t think she would. She’s too proud for that.’
‘Not too proud to have your brother working for nothing.’
‘Dylan offered. And he is not working for nothing.’
Rich let out an impatient sigh. ‘Whatever… Go and do your Good Samaritan stint. But don’t come running to me when it all blows up in your face.’
Jasmine glared at him, arms folded tight across her chest. ‘Just because your composing isn’t going well, it doesn’t give you the right to be vile to everyone. I married a man who would have been as worried as me once upon a time. What happened to him?’
‘Nothing happened to him. And stop blaming everything on my work. It’s alright for you to prat about with your little bits of silver in that workshop but one of us has to bring in proper money…’ As soon as he had stopped speaking, Rich’s face twisted into a mortified grimace.
‘Sometimes,’ Jasmine said in a cold voice, ‘I actually hate you, Richard Green.’
‘Jas… I’m sorry…’
His apology went unheard as Jasmine slammed the kitchen door behind her.
Millie opened the heavy front door a crack and peered out from behind it. Her expression was strained and lacking any of her usual warmth. It looked to Jasmine as though Dylan had been right when he reported something was amiss.
‘I’m a bit busy today…’ Millie said, without waiting for Jasmine to speak. ‘Sorry.’
‘I just wanted to see if you were ok… You didn’t come over.’
‘Yes… I’ll call you later…’ The door began to close but then another voice called out and it swung back open.
‘You shouldn’t keep your new friends away on my account.’ A woman appeared and smiled sweetly. She stuck her hand out to Jasmine, Millie moving aside with an air of resignation. ‘I’m Rowena, an old friend of Millie’s from up north. And you must be Jasmine, unless lots of the ladies in Honeybourne have pink hair, of course…’
‘Yes…’ Jasmine replied, trying to get a handle on the situation. What was going on here? Why did Millie look so distressed? This was the woman Dylan had warned her about. Her brother wasn’t usually the most astute man when it came to reading emotional situations but in this instance Jasmine had to agree.
Rowena turned to Millie. ‘Aren’t you going to ask Jasmine in?’
‘It’s fine; I have somewhere I need to be,’ Jasmine said, glancing at Millie for some direction. ‘I just called to make sure everything was ok.’
‘Nonsense… I’m sure Millie would love you to pop in.’
‘If Jasmine is busy I’m sure she can come back later.’
‘But I won’t be here then and I do so want to know all about your new life with your new friends,’ Rowena insisted, taking a forceful hold of Jasmine’s arm and almost yanking her over the threshold.
Millie watched helplessly, and it worried Jasmine. She had always seemed so strong, so collected, but this was a very different woman to the positive and energetic one who had taken on the massive task of the bakery and never once flinched in the face of it – at least, not in public. Jasmine saw this Millie and knew something was very wrong.
‘Maybe I could stay for a little while,’ she said brightly. ‘It’s always nice to make new friends.’
‘I couldn’t agree more,’ Rowena said, closing the door behind Jasmine. She wandered over to the window seat and perched there, a benign smile lighting her features as she watched Jasmine sit on an old wooden bench. ‘Well, isn’t this nice?’
‘How long have you known each other?’ Jasmine asked. She glanced from one to the other – Rowena on her seat looking like the cat that got the canary, Millie hovering by the counter as though her legs might give way.
‘Ooh,’ Rowena said, ‘it seems like for ever. How long would you say it is, Millie?’
Millie shrugged.
Rowena looked thoughtful for a minute. ‘You were seeing Michael for about four years… and we knew each other before that…’ She smiled, but to Jasmine it reminded her of a shark – not so much a smile as a showing of teeth before the fatal snap. ‘After all,’ Rowena continued to Jasmine, ‘I was the one to introduce Michael to her… and we all know how that ended…’
‘Oh,’ Jasmine replied, wondering what else she was expected to say. She found it strange that Millie had never mentioned this Michael before but figured she had her reasons, and that was enough for her until her friend was ready to share more. And if she never did, that was her business too. Jasmine wasn’t there to judge, only to be a comfort or confidante should Millie ever need it.
‘So,’ Rowena said, cutting into her thoughts, ‘you’re in business too? And I hear you have triplets and an adorable husband.’
Jasmine glanced at Millie who seemed to be trying to convey in a single look that the information had not come from her. ‘I…’
‘Honeybourne is such a friendly and open place,’ Rowena continued. ‘It doesn’t take much to get its residents to share what they know about people. You and your husband seem to be minor celebrities here. Must be all that fertility zinging out of you.’
‘Something like that,’ Jasmine replied. The idea of this woman already knowing so much about her after being in the village for about five minutes was unnerving. ‘We did get quite a bit of coverage in the local paper, and I suppose an event like the birth of triplets is quite memorable in a small place
like this.’
‘Particularly when the parents are such larger-than-life characters themselves.’
‘I’m not sure what you mean…’
‘A film-score composer, his pink-haired wife and a house with a giant metal statue of Poseidon in the front garden? Not exactly Mr and Mrs Ordinary, are you?’
‘I never thought of it like that. And I don’t actually think the other villagers really think of us like that. I mean, we’ve lived here our whole lives so we’re just an unremarkable part of the furniture now.’ Jasmine held back a frown. She had stayed with the intention of finding out more about this woman, but instead she seemed to be the one under interrogation and was struggling to find a way of turning the conversation around to her advantage. She turned to Millie instead. ‘How did you two meet?’
Rowena jumped in with her reply before Millie’s mouth had even opened. ‘We sort of fell into the same circle of friends. We had a mutual… interest and it brought quite a few of us together.’ She winked at Millie. ‘Isn’t that right?’
‘I was going to show Rowena around,’ Millie replied, as if she hadn’t heard the leading question. ‘I thought we should go soon. And I’m sure you have lots to be getting on with today,’ she added, throwing Jasmine a desperate look that begged for her agreement.
‘Oh yes,’ Jasmine said. ‘I did only pop over for a short visit. But now I see you’re ok, I’ll make myself scarce. I have a lot to do.’
Millie smiled gratefully as Jasmine made for the front door.
As it was closed behind her, Jasmine couldn’t get Rowena out of her head. Dylan had been right, something was off about her, even though she had been perfectly pleasant and friendly. Or maybe unnervingly over-friendly was the phrase more suited to her behaviour. She looked to the cloudless sky for divine inspiration. When no bolt came from the blue, she gave a sigh and headed for Dylan’s house to drag him out of bed. She needed a second opinion from someone close, someone she trusted, and right now, Rich was not the man to offer it.
The Little Village Bakery: A feel good romantic comedy with plenty of cake (Honeybourne Book 1) Page 15