by Alix Kelso
She gave a tired laugh. “Things aren’t usually so chaotic in this house. We’d all been rubbing along fine, but this past week, it’s as if we’ve tipped over into madness. Alison’s not herself. Poppy’s begun having temper tantrums. Even Gregor’s DIY catastrophes aren’t usually as bad as this.”
“I’m only on day five of Janice living with me again, and I already feel like I’ve lost my mind.”
Chrissie laughed and a yawn escaped. Grinning, Keith drained the last of his tea before taking the mug over to the sink.
“I’ll get on my way,” he said. “You enjoy a bit of peace and quiet while you can.”
Just then, noisy banging commenced upstairs in the bathroom and Chrissie laughed again.
“You were saying?”
She walked Keith to the door. Even though her hair hung in damp tails and her make-up was smeared and she was now in old jeans and a sweater instead of the sophisticated dress she’d worn earlier, Keith still gave her a look that made her feel like a million dollars. Stepping closer, he tilted her chin and kissed her, sending lovely tingles all over her skin.
“See you tomorrow,” Keith said.
Their attempts to go out together had so far ended in complete failure. Yet as Chrissie watched him walk away, she was already looking forward to giving it yet another shot.
20
“I’m nervous, Keith,” Big Kev said. “I’ve never been this nervous before in my life.”
It was late on Tuesday afternoon, and Keith was swapping out a couple of empty vodka bottles behind the bar at The Crooked Thistle while Big Kev squinted at his dog-eared notebook and chewed his pen.
“Nervous about the wedding or nervous about being married?” Keith asked.
“The wedding. What if I fall on my face as I walk up the aisle?”
“You don’t walk up the aisle, Kev. The bride does that bit.”
“But I need to get myself to the front of the church where we say the vows. There’s no side door, I just have to walk in. What if I fall over in front of everyone?”
“That won’t happen. Your best man will keep you right.”
Big Kev frowned and mumbled something.
“Eh?” Keith said.
“I said I don’t have a best man.”
Keith set down the empty vodka bottle. “You’d better hurry up, or whoever you’re planning on asking might not be able to take time off work for a weekday wedding.”
“I know, it’s just that…”
“Just what?”
Big Kev’s face turned gloomy. “I don’t have anyone to ask. I don’t have any brothers. I’m not close enough to my family to ask an uncle or a cousin. I asked Jimmy Pearson, but he says he’s working that day. He might not even make it to the reception.”
Keith frowned at this news and at the look on the young man’s face. What had happened to the bloke who’d been full of joy at the prospect of wedded bliss just a few days ago? Keith hated to see him looking so downcast, but he knew only too well how much pressure a wedding could put on a person.
Big Kev glanced up hopefully. “Keith, this will sound like I’m only asking because I’m desperate, but that’s not really the reason. Would you be my best man?”
Keith stared in surprise.
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” Big Kev continued. “You’re helping me put on the reception, and you helped get a wedding cake, and that lady friend of yours put me in touch with that nice florist. But I’d like it if you’d be my best man, too. Maybe it’d give me some courage to have you standing next to me while I’m waiting on my Fiona coming down the aisle.”
Keith swallowed back the wave of unexpected emotion that had caught in his throat. “I’d be honoured, Kevin.”
“You would?” Big Kev said, his eyes wide.
“Of course.”
“So you’ll do it?”
“Aye, I’ll do it. I’ll have to make sure someone can cover for me here, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”
Big Kev jumped from his stool and ran around the bar and grabbed Keith into a hug.
“Oi! I’ll lose my licence, letting punters roam around back here,” Keith said, laughing as he patted the young man on the back.
“Thank you, Keith.”
“Aye, you’re welcome. Right, that’s enough hugging, get back to your bar stool.”
Big Kev checked his watch. “I need to go. I’m working an extra shift later. I had no idea how bloody expensive weddings were.”
“It’ll all be worth it, you mark my words.”
Big Kev shrugged into his jacket, drained the last of his lemonade and hurried out the door. Keith watched him leave, a grin on his face as he contemplated his unexpected best man duties.
“You’ve got a kind heart, Keith McGraw.”
Turning, Keith saw Janice standing in the doorway to the back corridor, her arms folded as she watched him with a smile.
“You heard all that, I take it?”
Janice nodded. “It’s sweet of you to help the young lad.”
Keith waved a hand. “After all the money he’s spent in my pub over the years, the least I can do is give him a bit of moral support on his wedding day.”
“You’re not doing it because he’s a customer in your pub.”
“What’s your point?”
She shrugged. “You’re a good man, that’s my point.”
Keith cleared his throat and glanced around the pub. It was a quiet afternoon, there was no one waiting at the bar, and Sophie was restocking the bottle fridges. He could take ten minutes to finally speak with Janice, who’d been keeping a low profile since the night of the vodka incident.
“Janice, come upstairs, there’s something we need to talk about.”
When they reached the living room, Keith sat down and gestured for Janice to do the same. He frowned and wrung his hands, the words he’d wanted to say now lost. This conversation had been playing out in his mind all morning. Now, though, he wasn’t so sure that what he’d planned to say would go down as intended.
“Janice—”
“Keith, I owe you an apology for the other night,” Janice interrupted. “I should’ve said sorry already, but I was too embarrassed.”
“Janice, listen—”
“No, let me say this. I was out of order. You wanted to go out with your new girlfriend, and I knew that, so I ruined it. I knew exactly what I was doing and it was wrong. And I’m sorry.”
Surprised, Keith considered this. “I just thought you were upset, Janice. I never thought for a minute that you did it deliberately.”
“Well, I did do it deliberately. I’m a horrible person. And because I’m so miserable and unhappy, I want everyone else to be miserable and unhappy, too.”
“I don’t know what to say to that, Janice.”
Her gaze settled on him. “How long have you been seeing Chrissie?”
“We only met a few days ago. We haven’t even gone out together for a drink yet.”
“So, it’s not serious?”
Keith shifted on the sofa and studied her. “I don’t know if it’s serious or not.”
Suddenly moving closer, Janice took his hands in hers. “Do you think there’s any way you and I might one day get back together? That there might be something between us again?”
Keith pulled his hands free, gently but unequivocally. “No, Janice. There’s absolutely no chance that will happen. You must know that.”
“But we had something so good!”
“No we didn’t. You cheated on me and I chose to pretend it wasn’t happening. That isn’t good. That isn’t healthy. What we had was poisoned right from the beginning.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “And you can’t forgive me for that?”
Keith laughed. He didn’t mean to, but it came out before he could stop it. “Whether I forgive you or don’t forgive you isn’t the point. What we had is gone and that’s a good thing, for both of us. You can’t seriously expect me to take you back with open arms after what yo
u did. You can’t seriously expect me to want to.”
“But Keith—”
“And don’t forget that you’re only here because Stuart threw you out. If that hadn’t happened, would you really be sitting here telling me you want us to try again?”
She stared for a beat as realisation dawned in her eyes. Keith almost heard the click of the pieces fitting together in her mind. Silence reigned as the two of them sat looking at one another, Janice’s pleading expression shifting to one of horrified understanding.
“I’m such a fool,” she said, her voice soft as she put her head in her hands. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course you don’t want me back. And obviously I don’t want you back.”
“Thanks.”
Janice turned quickly, embarrassment in her eyes, but Keith only laughed.
“What I mean is,” Janice said, “I’m too addled right now to know what I want. But if I really loved you, Keith, I never would’ve cheated on you. I never cheated on Stuart.”
Keith wondered why it hurt to hear this. Pride, he supposed. Why hadn’t he been enough for her? And why did it matter now anyway?
But it didn’t matter, not really. He’d always known he hadn’t been enough for the women to whom he’d given his heart.
“Janice, what you need to do is get your life back on track, and once you’re on an even keel you can start thinking again about complicated things like relationships. You can stay here until you find somewhere else to live, but you can’t start any of this nonsense again about us getting back together.”
She nodded and her eyes searched his. “I’m sorry for being a wreck.”
He waved a hand. “Apology accepted.”
“So,” she said, a soft smile coming to her lips, “tell me about this Chrissie. Do you think it might get serious?”
“Right now, I’d be happy if we could just have a drink together without our plans being ruined.”
“Sometimes the best relationships are the ones that have the worst beginnings.”
“In that case, we’re destined for a long and happy life together.”
Laughing, Janice rose from the sofa. “When are you seeing her again?”
“Tonight. In fact, I was hoping you could cover for me in the pub.”
Keith’s phone rang. When he checked the screen, he saw it was Big Kev. Frowning, he answered the call.
“I know this is short notice,” Big Kev said breathlessly on the other end of the line, “but we need you to come to our wedding ceremony rehearsal.”
Keith sighed. “I’ve been married three times, son. I know what happens at these things.”
“But Fiona wants everyone to practise so there won’t be any mistakes. And you haven’t met her yet, and with the way things are going, you might not get to meet her before the big day. Now that you’re my best man, it seems only right that you know who my bride is.”
“When is it?”
“Eight o’clock tonight. It’s the only time me and Fiona can be there, and I’m working until seven-thirty.”
Keith thought of the table he’d booked for dinner with Chrissie. He’d already ordered the glasses of champagne on arrival, and had planned to toast their success in actually making it out together.
“Please, Keith,” Big Kev said. “You might know what you’re doing with this whole wedding business, but I’m clueless. I really need some help.”
Closing his eyes, Keith sighed. “I’ll be there. Just text me the church address.”
Once he hung up, Janice gave him a look. “Does this mean you have to cancel your dinner tonight with Chrissie?”
Scrolling through his phone contacts for Chrissie’s number, Keith nodded unhappily.
“If you like her, and she likes you, you’ll find a way to make it work,” Janice said and offered him a smile.
“Sounds simple,” Keith said.
But Janice shook her head. “No, it’s not simple. But the best love stories never are.”
21
According to the email Chrissie had just received from the organisers of the Wedding Cake Showcase, the participants were required to arrive at the hall no later than one o’clock and were expected to remain on the podium beside their cakes until the judging began at two. Competitors were permitted to bring promotional materials for distribution, but these would be checked by organisers to ensure they were in keeping with the style and sensibilities of the event. Competitors were expected to dress appropriately, given that they would be highly visible on the podium. Once the competition was over, competitors were required to clear the judging podium swiftly to make way for the bridal floristry competition that would take place on the stage immediately afterwards.
Chrissie studied the email, nerves twisting in her gut. It all sounded extremely regimented and she wondered if she was cut out for this after all.
It was late on Wednesday morning, and Chrissie had just finished the last of the cakes that were due for collection later that day and tomorrow. She was ahead of schedule, which pleased her, although the reason for being ahead of schedule did not.
When Keith had called to say he couldn’t make it to dinner, she’d used the time to work instead. Apparently, there was some last minute commitment he’d had to deal with, something to do with the young man whose wedding cake she would be baking. Keith had asked if they could plan something for another night instead. Although she’d agreed, she suspected she probably wouldn’t hear from the man ever again. Those two evenings they’d attempted to get together for drinks had been disastrous, and it stood to reason that once he thought about it, he’d decide it wasn’t worth another shot. The tiny bud of romance that had begun sprouting between them had been killed off by a late spring frost.
Beyond the cake shop windows on Caledonia Road, Chrissie watched people walking up and down, basking in the sunshine. It was turning into a glorious spring, but today’s bright blue skies failed to cheer her.
At least she’d finally begun to master the buttercream technique for the cake competition. Before her on the shop counter sat the latest incarnation of the design, a sample cake she’d prepared that morning comprising a single sponge covered in the special buttercream, and so far the icing was holding its own. Sunshine pouring in the windows had warmed the shop considerably, but still there was no sign of the icing beginning to melt or lose the beautiful soft curves and peaks that she’d worked into it. Even the colour looked gorgeous, with the simple ivory shade enhanced by the hint of elegant taupe. Although the final cake would have three more tiers, Chrissie couldn’t help but feel that this latest version was a success. It was certainly overdue, given that she’d spent almost an entire week trying to create this thing.
Knowing she’d finally cracked it, Chrissie felt happy relief. At least one thing had been wrangled under control in her life. Things might still be in chaos at home, Alison might still be driving her mad, the bathroom floor that Gregor had wrecked might still be awaiting final repairs, and her newly sprung love life might have wilted before it had even come close to blooming. But at least she had managed to bake this wonderful cake. Her theory about the design had proven true and it looked beautiful.
Chrissie picked up a knife, cut a huge slice of wedding cake and bit into it. Soft sponge and sweet coconut and light-as-air buttercream exploded on her tongue. It tasted amazing.
A vision filled her head. The wedding cake competition winner was being announced. The exhibition hall fell quiet as everyone paused to hear the results. The head judge peered at the piece of paper in her hand, leaned towards the microphone… and announced the winner as Chrissie Sullivan. The hall erupted in applause. Chrissie took to the stage, her grin a mile wide, to receive her trophy and bask in the glory of her win.
It could happen, Chrissie thought as she took another bite of cake. Someone had to win the competition. Why couldn’t it be her?
Beyond the cake shop windows, Chrissie saw her mother on the other side of Caledonia Road. Irene crossed over and made a bee
line for the door, waving when she saw Chrissie at the counter.
“Well, that looks delicious,” Irene said as the bell tinkled above the door and she strode inside. “Is this your competition cake?”
Chrissie nodded and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Want a slice?”
“Go on, then,” Irene replied, setting down her huge handbag. “Although I’m on my way to tea and cake with my book club ladies, so I’d better not have too much. It’s our AGM and Roberta MacDonald is trying to railroad us into dedicating our next year of reading to the classics. I need to be sharp in order to thwart her.”
Chrissie hid a smile and cut her mother a slice of cake. “You don’t want to read the classics?”
“Not every week, no,” Irene said, examining the cake. “I can put up with a bit of Dickens or Austen now and again. But every week? No thank you. I didn’t join that book club to be bored to death. I need my dose of Nora Roberts. I need my dose of Lee Child. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
Irene bit into her slice of cake. Chrissie watched her mother’s eyes first narrow as she began chewing, and then open wide.
“Oh, Chrissie, this is beautiful!” Irene said, taking another bite. “This coconut flavour is just wonderful. And for a wedding cake, it’s such a nice change from vanilla sponge.”
“Not too dry?”
“Not in the least.” Irene chewed for a moment and peered at the rest of the cake sitting on its stand on the counter. “I love the icing, Chrissie. I can’t stop admiring it.”
“That’s just the effect I’m hoping for.”
“Well, it’s a triumph,” Irene said, taking another bite before setting the rest of the slice on to her napkin. “Tell me, how is your bathroom? Is the floor repaired yet?”
Chrissie rolled her eyes. “I’ve got someone coming next week to sort it. Gregor wanted to handle it but I told him not to touch a damn thing.”
“Quite right. The boy is a nuisance. And what about your date last night with Keith? How did that go?”
Chrissie sighed. “It didn’t. He cancelled.”
“He did what? Why?”