Spring Beginnings

by Georgia Hill

  Millie went first, leaving Jed engrossed in the news on TV. While he showered, she frowned over the meagre contents of her kitchen cupboards and wondered what to cook.

  When Jed emerged, with wet hair and smelling of her almond-blossom shower gel, she nearly jumped on him there and then. Practicalities won by a nose.

  ‘Just salad and some new potatoes, I’m afraid,’ she explained, as they sat at her tiny table in the kitchen. ‘But I’ve made some mango chicken to go with it.’ She tried to concentrate on the food and failed. Jed looked gorgeous with his hair damp and curling around his collar. The thought of all that clean, tanned skin under his shirt and chinos was making her weak with desire.

  ‘Sounds great. And we’ve cake for pudding!’ Jed was obviously only thinking of one type of hunger.

  ‘Oh yes, your sponge cake. Hope it’s okay. I rather threw them together late last night.’

  ‘It’ll be perfect,’ Jed declared confidently. ‘Everything you touch is perfect.’

  Millie laughed, embarrassed. ‘Not sure about that.’

  He reached over and took her hand. ‘It’s true,’ he said, simply, gazing into her eyes.

  They knew what was coming. The promise of it vibrated in the air. Thrummed between them. And they both knew that the longer they deferred it, the sweeter it would taste.

  ‘I’ll open some wine, shall I?’ he added.

  Millie couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. Was hollowed out with desire for the man. She managed a nod.

  He rooted around in the fridge and found the half-full bottle of white she’d begun last night. He filled their glasses. ‘You know, I really admire how you’re right in the middle of your community.’

  ‘Am I?’

  He sat down and picked up his fork. ‘Yes, of course you are. Look at this weekend. None of it would have been possible without your friends rallying around.’ He began to eat. ‘It’s something I really envy. I’ve never had that. Experienced that. I’ve been thinking, by the way,’ he leaned forward, enthusiasm warming his dark eyes. ‘What you need is a marketing strategy.’

  ‘Do I?’ Whatever she’d expected, it wasn’t this. She sipped some wine.

  ‘You don’t actually need to change much. Actually nothing. Just emphasise what you already do, what you’re known for. Have you got a mission statement?’

  Millie nearly choked on her wine. ‘A what?’

  ‘Something that sums up what you’re all about.’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Can you tell me what you’re all about? In as brief a sentence as possible?’

  Millie shrugged. She wanted to concentrate on another kind of strategy, the one to get Jed into her bed as quickly as possible. But he was waiting for an answer. Taking this seriously. He seemed as involved in this as he had been with Arthur and Daisy. She thought for a moment. ‘Well, I’m committed to organic, locally sourced supplies and all my food is home-cooked.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s a start. It’s definitely what you’re all about, isn’t it?’ Jed speared a piece of chicken. ‘Maybe we need to work on the wording a little. God, this is gorgeous, Millie.’

  ‘Thank you. So, what do I need one of these mission statements for?’

  ‘Well, you don’t really,’ Jed admitted. ‘It’s a bit of a gimmick, but it helps to shove what you’re all about under people’s noses. The tourists down from the city will really go for it. You could get Ken to paint it on the wall. And you need a slogan. To go on your advertising.’ He ate silently for a minute. ‘What about, “Come to Millie’s and meet your next best friend!”’

  Millie began to see what he was getting at. She nodded enthusiastically. ‘I love that! And I was thinking of expanding the menu –’

  ‘No,’ Jed’s voice was firm. ‘Stick to what you’re good at, what you’re known for. Have a limited menu chalked up on a blackboard and when it’s gone, it’s gone. Gives the impression that everything is freshly cooked.’

  ‘Everything is!’

  Jed raised his glass to her. ‘Exactly! Promotes the idea that you have to get it while it’s hot and fresh – that sort of thing. Maybe add a fish special?’

  Millie pushed a cherry tomato around her plate. ‘I’ve thought about that. I don’t want to set myself up in competition with the Sea Food Shack and The Plaice Place. It’s how Berecombe works,’ she explained. ‘We all stick to what we’re good at – and known for – and don’t step on anyone else’s toes.’

  Jed nodded. ‘Okay. Fair point. What about this utterly delicious mango chicken? Has this ever made it onto the menu?’

  Millie shook her head and said with a rueful grin, ‘Never thought the likes of Biddy and Arthur would go for it.’

  ‘You might be right there.’ Jed laughed. ‘One alarmingly exotic special a day won’t give folk a cardiac, though. They’ll still have their scones and tea. Where do you get your recipes from, anyway?’

  ‘Mum’s notebook. She collected recipes as well. I’ve still got them in a big folder. Some go back years.’

  He sat back. ‘And there’s your first Millie Vanilla’s Cook Book. It’ll be a best-seller,’ he added triumphantly.

  ‘Do you ever stop?’ Millie laughed.

  ‘Nope.’ He gave her a flirty look from underneath dark lashes. ‘Aw, Millie, it’s just that I think the café is a really special place, you know I do. I just want it to be the success it deserves.’

  Trevor nosed at his knee in the hope of a tid-bit. ‘Of course, the main advantage you have is that you’re completely dog-friendly. You make your own dog treats as well, don’t you? We’ll have to add that to the menu.’

  ‘Or have a separate special dog’s menu!’ Millie cried. ‘That would be amazing.’

  ‘Brilliant! And have you thought about doing any merchandise? Get your slogan on aprons, oven gloves, those hessian bags for life you can get. I’ve seen people giving the aprons you wear admiring looks. Bet they’d sell all day long. Where do you source them?’

  Millie was loving his enthusiasm. ‘Biddy makes them for me. I get the material from Dorchester market.’

  ‘Well, tell her they’re great. So retro. Do you think she’d like to go into production?’

  Millie gave him a big-eyed look. ‘After what she revealed yesterday, I think she’s probably capable of anything.’

  Jed laughed. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned, making the chair tilt back on two legs. ‘I’ve really enjoyed this weekend.’ He rolled his neck to ease out the kinks.

  ‘What, painting out a crappy old café?’

  ‘Millie, really, don’t you mean, Millie Vanilla’s, where the food is home-cooked and you can meet your next best friend?’ He grinned widely. ‘Yes! I’ve loved it. I enjoy doing things with you. You must have realised that by now. Working alongside you.’ His chair thumped back onto the floor as he leaned forward. He reached for her hand again. ‘And now, drink your wine, Emilia,’ Jed said, with an unmistakable glint in his eye. ‘I really think it’s time I took you to bed. I intend on doing a whole load of far more enjoyable things with you. And I think it’s going to take quite some time.’

  Flustered, Millie replied, ‘We haven’t had the cake yet.’

  ‘You know what? I think I’d rather have you for pudding.’

  Chapter 22

  Millie woke to the sound of a herring gull stomping about on the flat roof above her. Rolling over and pulling the duvet up she thought, not for the first time, that they must wear hobnail boots to make that amount of racket. Coming up against the solid warmth of a long male body in her bed jolted her awake properly.

  Jed!

  He was fast asleep with his back to her. She could hear his quiet, regular breathing. She let him sleep, enjoying the view far too much to want to wake him. Stifling a giggle, she took time exploring him with her eyes. She liked how his hair was slightly too long at the back and trailed into a little point at the nape of his strong neck. She liked, even better, the memory of thrusting her hands into the bl
ond strands, pulling to bring him further into her, wrapping herself around him, desperate to have all of him. His shoulders were wide, his arms satisfyingly well-muscled. The memory of him balanced above her, his face alive with the pleasure she’d given him, sent quivers of desire through her.

  She’d been insatiable last night. Need for his body had blanked everything else out. Worry over the café, her sadness about Tessa both forgotten. She let a sigh escape. He was a beautiful man. And the perfect lover.

  Trailing a finger lightly over the smooth skin of Jed’s back had ripples of remembered pleasure shuddering through her. She trickled a touch along his side and over his perfect behind. Who would have thought she could get so turned on by a man’s bum? Jed’s was firm and just so squeezable. She gave in to temptation and found her wrist gripped.

  ‘Beats an alarm call any day,’ Jed growled.

  Giggling, Millie slid over him, getting impossibly turned on by the feel of his taut, hard body beneath hers.

  ‘Morning, lover,’ she said and nipped gently at his lower lip.

  ‘Morning, my love.’ He ran a hand up her thigh and then to her breast, a thumb finding the nipple and making her shiver. ‘Somehow I don’t seem to be able to get enough of you.’

  Millie shot him a wicked look. Raising herself up, she concentrated on following the trail of fair hair from his chest, fascinated by how it darkened to a tawny brown at his groin. Cupping him, she breathed, ‘I know exactly what you mean,’ and kissed his startled mouth.

  Afterwards they lay wrapped around one another, watching a slab of dawn light slide across the ceiling and listening to the boom and hiss of the sea.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been happier, Millie. I love you. I love you so very much.’ Jed kissed the top of her head softly. ‘You know, you mean home to me.’

  Millie didn’t want to move, didn’t even want to breathe, she was afraid of breaking the spell. It was the most perfect thing anyone had ever said to her. Here was a man who loved her and who she knew, without any doubt, she loved back.

  ‘And I love you,’ she whispered back. ‘I love you right back.’

  Chapter 23

  The following days were a whirl. Millie had never been busier – or happier. She managed a deal with the bakers that guaranteed a supply of bread for the short term. Not as exciting a range as Tessa’s, but it would do for a while until she found an alternative. She baked and froze as much food as she could, in preparation for the parties and even had to borrow space in one of the Barts’ freezers. Zoe and Sean were doing a wonderful job at making flyers and getting them put around town and there was a palpable buzz about the parties. It seemed Arthur had been right; she was valued and loved by her community.

  It would have been easier – and more effective – to close down and open with a flourish on the day of the parties, but Millie couldn’t afford to. Instead, she opened for just a few hours each day, allowing her time to cook but also the opportunity to trial the new menu. She lost count of the positive comments about the café’s new look and customers were equally enthusiastic about the specials. Millie even persuaded Arthur to try her mango chicken, which he declared delicious.

  What’s more, the weather stayed warm and sunny. Perfect for an evening beach party.

  Jed stayed most nights, helped Zoe and Sean distribute publicity and took Trevor out for marathon walks when Millie was panicking about getting everything done. She hardly slept; the nights were too full with exploring Jed’s body and the days were a blur of work. She was running on adrenalin and white-hot love.

  In an unusual lull, she and Zoe sat on the sun terrace. It was late afternoon and the café was empty. It felt most definitely like the calm before the storm. Millie pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head, closed her eyes and turned her face greedily to the sun. It was reflecting off the white-painted walls and she could feel her bones drink in the heat. She was exhausted but the happiest she’d ever been.

  The café was beginning to attract its old customers back. The W.I. knitters were back, as were the B.A.P.S. Even Clare and her friends had returned, saying they didn’t feel welcome at Blue Elephant and already the novelty had worn off. Besides, Clare had pointed out logically, Blue Elephant had no outside space and it was a waste of the spring sunshine to mooch indoors. ‘Gotta get some rays,’ she’d said.

  For the first time in a long while, Millie was daring to feel confident in Millie Vanilla’s future.

  ‘These cupcakes are so lush,’ Zoe said as she helped herself to another.

  ‘Mary Berry recipe,’ Millie murmured, without opening her eyes. ‘The woman’s a genius. Lots of vanilla.’

  ‘Love the pink icing. So pretty.’

  Millie smiled. Since meeting Sean, Zoe had softened. ‘How’s school going?’

  ‘Okay.’

  Millie swung her feet off the wall and gave Zoe a keen look. ‘Have you decided anything? About uni, I mean.’

  Zoe sighed. ‘Everyone thinks it would be a mistake not to go. Waste of my talent, they keep saying.’

  ‘Your considerable talents,’ Millie added, with a grin.

  ‘Sean thinks I should. Go, I mean.’

  ‘He’s a bit of a star, that boy.’

  ‘Aw, Mil, that’s the problem. I don’t want to leave him.’ Zoe’s voice quavered.

  Millie reached over a hand. ‘He’ll still be here. You’ll be back for Christmas, summer. And there are trains to Durham. He could visit. Might even be possible to get a flight from Exeter.’

  ‘Suppose.’ Zoe looked unconvinced. ‘Ever get the feeling you’ve met the right man at the wrong time?’

  Millie suppressed the unkind thought that Sean could hardly be described as a man – yet. Her thoughts strayed to Jed and how he’d been last night. He’d held her tightly and whispered he loved her again and again. He’d found home, he’d repeated in amazement. To him she was his home.

  ‘Millie?’

  Millie brought herself back. ‘Sorry, Zoe, I’m a bit tired.’

  ‘I bet,’ Zoe said mischievously. ‘What with a hot lover and all.’

  ‘Yes, well, I believe we were talking about your love life, young lady.’

  ‘Gawd, she’s “young ladying” me now,’ Zoe said to Trevor, who ignored her as he was too busy snoring in the sun. ‘Now I know I’m in for a lecture.’

  ‘Are you worried Sean might not be faithful?’

  Zoe squirmed uncomfortably. ‘I think Sean will be more loyal than a very loyal thing. I’m more worried about me.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘Oh, Millie, why can’t everything stay the same? Why can’t I stay in Berecombe with Sean?’ Zoe reverted to a young child, bottom lip jutting out while she scuffed her trainer against a pebble.

  ‘I don’t know the answer to that, Zo. Think it’s called Life.’

  ‘Well, I wish Life would get on its horse, ride off into the sunset and leave me alone.’

  Millie frowned. ‘A very strange image. Do you think Life looks a bit like Death? Can’t imagine either riding a horse, though. Especially one of those dozy ponies George Small has on his farm.’

  It wasn’t much of a joke, but it raised a smile from Zoe, even if it was a very tiny one.

  She sighed. ‘Trouble is, Mil, I want both, if I’m honest. I want to go to Durham. I loved it there when I went on the open day. And the course is ace.’ She stared out to sea and watched a family with several children paddling in the shallows and shrieking at the cold water. ‘But I really love Sean. I really, really love him.’

  ‘Enough to sacrifice getting a degree?’

  Zoe stuck a finger into her cupcake and sucked icing off it. ‘What good will an English lit degree do me?’

  ‘I don’t know, my lovely, but I suppose it’s a sign to the world of your intelligence and commitment. Depends what you want to do, I suppose.’

  ‘That’s just it. I don’t know what I want to do!’ Zoe turned on Millie, all passion and flying dyed hair. ‘I don’t know if I w
ant to do art. Ken says I’ve got the talent if I want to go for a fine arts course. But that would mean changing options, going somewhere else. Ken had to do a foundation course on top, so that would mean four years away.’ She flung herself back in the chair, which creaked ominously. ‘Before Sean, before meeting his dad, I was so certain what I wanted to do and now it’s all such a mess. It’s doing my head in with all the thinking about it.’ She screwed up her face, trying not to cry.

  Millie pulled herself higher on her chair. It was hard seeing the usually carefree Zoe so upset. She took off her sunglasses and thought rapidly. ‘It’s not a mess at all,’ she said, with a calmness she certainly didn’t feel. Goodness only knew, she wasn’t the person to counsel a seventeen-year-old. She thought back to how everything had seemed so black and white when she was in sixth form. A place at university to study, like Zoe, English literature. Weekend clubbing with best friend Dora, going out with Rick. The future rolling out in front of her. A golden time, glistening with promise and uncomplicated freedom. And then the car accident. And everything had burnt to ashes. Rick off to Manchester, Dora to drama school in London. And she’d stayed in Berecombe to pick up the shattered fragments of her parents’ lives. She shook her head. No good thinking like that. She glanced at Zoe waiting desperately for advice. Was she projecting her own lost ambitions onto her? Possibly. But it would be a crime for Zoe not to go to university. She was far cleverer than Millie had been at the same age. And had far fewer responsibilities. She should go!

  ‘Zoe – you could have it all.’

  ‘How?’ Zoe blew her nose hard into a tissue, making Trevor start.

  ‘Go to Durham, if you get the grades, that is.’

  ‘Millie!’ Zoe was scornful. ‘’Course I’ll get the grades.’

  ‘Okay, then. Do your degree. The terms aren’t all that long. You can see Sean when you’re able and in the breaks you can work with Ken in his studio developing your art.’

  Zoe subsided. ‘A compromise, then?’

  ‘Ah. I think that’s our friend Life’s speciality. That and horse-riding,’ Millie added.