by Alix Kelso
Chrissie stared. The woman didn’t beat about the bush. “Um, I mostly do celebration cakes – birthdays, weddings, that sort of thing, and—”
“Which is why your sponges are so delicious,” Claire replied, smiling and reaching into her bag. “Here’s my business card, look us up and see what you think. I’ll call tomorrow and we’ll chat. I work with solid clients who have serious expense accounts and this could be a profitable opportunity for your business, Chrissie.” She checked her watch and frowned. “Sorry, I need to run. I’ll phone tomorrow, say ten o’clock?”
And with that, Claire Thompson dashed off. Chrissie watched her disappear into the crowd, before glancing at the business card the woman had handed her.
When Chrissie joined her mother and daughter at the exits, they gave her curious looks.
“Was that one of the judges you were talking to?” Alison asked.
Chrissie nodded and slipped Claire Thompson’s business card into her bag. “She runs a catering company and wants to know if I’m interested in supplying cakes.”
Irene and Alison glanced at one another then back at Chrissie. “That’s wonderful!” Irene said. “I knew coming here wouldn’t be a wasted trip.”
“I’m run off my feet with the cake shop as it is,” Chrissie said. “I don’t have the capacity to take on outside catering contracts.”
Irene frowned. “So hire someone.”
“I don’t know—”
“Mum, maybe it’s time to take someone on to help you and give yourself a break,” Alison said. “You work non-stop at the shop, and—”
“It’s a lot of work hiring someone and training them and giving them responsibilities,” Chrissie said, shaking her head. “I like doing things on my own.”
But Irene sighed at this. “Christine Sullivan, for God’s sake, what’s the matter with you? You didn’t give up your college job and risk everything to set up a business only to work yourself into the ground. People set up businesses to give themselves a better life. You’ve done all the hard work, getting the shop up off the ground and building a good reputation. But there’s only so much one person can do by themselves. I mean, why on earth would you come to this competition if not to grow your business? And how can you grow your business if you won’t take on any staff?”
“We’ve had this discussion already, Mother.”
“Well, maybe it’s time to have it again.”
Chrissie sighed. All around them, the wedding fair visitors were meandering, and it wasn’t the ideal spot to find herself being told off by her mother.
“Chrissie, what is it you want for the future?” Irene said, her tone a little softer. “Do you really want to spend your fifties working every waking moment? Baking all day, dealing with customers and wholesalers all day, sorting through accounts and paperwork on evenings and weekends? Is that what you want your life to be about?”
“I love my shop!”
“I know you do. And hiring someone would mean you had more time to focus on the things you enjoy most about it. You’d have space to take on a new contract and a new line of business and see where it leads.”
“And maybe you’d have more time for things that aren’t about the cake shop, too,” Alison said, and threw a glance at Irene.
“Indeed,” Irene agreed. “With a member of staff or two, helping with the baking basics and the clearing up and the deliveries and all that stuff, maybe you’d actually have time for a personal life outside of work.”
“Meaning?” Chrissie said.
“Meaning that there’s no point deciding you’re going to try things again with this Keith McGraw if you don’t actually have any space in your life for him.”
“Gran’s right,” Alison said. “If you had staff, you’d have time for things like dating.”
“And if you had staff, you’d also be able to handle this catering contract and earn more money. It’s a win-win.”
“I’m so glad you’ve both got this figured out,” Chrissie said, pushing towards the doors. “I must be stupid not to have realised it was all so simple.”
Irene laid a hand on her arm before she could go any further. “But it is simple, Christine. You don’t have to do everything all by yourself. Not anymore.”
The softness of Irene’s words stopped Chrissie in her tracks and brought sudden tears to her eyes. She turned and looked at Alison, and then at Irene.
“You did it all on your own for so long,” Irene said. “And you did a wonderful job. But Alison’s all grown up now and moving on with her life. What’s next for you?”
Chrissie swallowed back the unexpected emotion and shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Irene smiled and put an arm around her. “Then maybe it’s time to find out.”
35
Keith steered the car through the traffic and back towards Fairhill, occasionally glancing in the rear view mirror at Big Kev sitting in the back seat with his new bride beside him. The young man couldn’t possibly look any happier, Keith thought, grinning at the sight of the two newlyweds gazing into each other’s eyes.
“That was the best thing ever!” Big Kev said. “I can’t believe we’re married.”
“Believe it!” Fiona said, wiggling her wedding ring.
The bride and groom began kissing. When it got noisy, Keith scowled.
“Right, you two, there’ll be time enough for that later.”
“Sorry, Keith.” Big Kev chuckled, wiping lipstick from his mouth. Keith shook his head and laughed as he pulled up outside The Crooked Thistle. As he opened the car door and helped the bride get out, he crossed his fingers and hoped that everything looked as good inside the pub as it had when he’d left.
As soon as they pushed through the pub doors, a big cheer went up from the punters, and Keith laughed to see Big Kev and his bride basking in the attention and congratulations. The alcove was cosy with the twinkling fairy lights and pretty bunting, and the wedding guests were already getting comfortable in their seats. Behind the bar, young Aiden rushed to the house system and pressed a few buttons, changing the music to the playlist that Big Kev had given Keith earlier that week, and soon the smooth tones of Michael Bublé were spilling from the speakers. The kitchen doors swung open and Marek and his assistant began bringing out the buffet platters and setting them down on the serving tables.
Which was when Keith noticed the wedding cake.
“What the…?” He walked to the alcove, stunned at what he saw. Instead of the two-tiered cake he’d ordered, there stood a four-tiered spectacle that simply took his breath away. The dreamy icing stood in soft peaks and crests that were so beautiful, Keith could only stare. And the sweet sugar roses tumbling down the sides were so intricate that they actually brought a lump to his throat.
When Big Kev and Fiona noticed the wedding cake, the bride let out a cry.
“Kevin!” she squealed, grabbing her new husband and kissing him. “You said you’d got the cake I asked for, but all along you planned to surprise me with this? Look at this thing! It’s so gorgeous!”
Confusion spreading on his face, Big Kev accepted the kiss from his new wife before moving closer to Keith. “You did this for us?” he said in a quiet voice, his eyes moist. “I don’t know what to say.”
Me neither, Keith thought as Big Kev grabbed him into a huge hug.
“Quick!” Big Kev shouted after releasing Keith. “Get the photographer! I want a picture of me and my new missus and this amazing cake.”
“The photographer got stuck in traffic,” one of the wedding guests announced, looking up from his phone. “He says he’s fifteen minutes away.”
“Keith, snap a quick picture of us on your phone,” Big Kev said as he pulled his bride into his arms beside the cake.
Still stunned by the beautiful wedding cake, Keith took out his phone and framed a shot of the newlyweds and took the photographs. As he checked them on the screen, Sophie wandered across and leaned over the bar.
“This cake’s really somethin
g, isn’t it?” she said.
“You can say that again.”
“Chrissie took a lot of care setting it up, too.”
“I’ll bet she did.”
“She left you a note,” Sophie said, smiling.
Keith’s head snapped around as Sophie reached behind the till and handed him a folded piece of paper. He opened it and read.
Keith, I’m sorry… the note began, and his breath caught in his throat in anticipation. But he soon blew it out again once he’d read the whole thing.
Keith, I’m sorry, I know this cake isn’t what you ordered. It’s a long story, but I hope this substitute cake doesn’t disappoint. Of course, it’s no problem to give you a full refund as I haven’t provided what you paid for. Chrissie.
Keith stared at the note for a long moment, thinking of the amazingly creative woman who’d make this glorious cake and yet still apologised because it wasn’t what he’d ordered. She was good straight through to her core. Good and true.
He ached for her.
“Hey Keith!” Big Kev called out. “Send me that photograph you just took of us next to our cake. I want to put it on Facebook.”
Keith set down Chrissie’s note and frowned at his phone photos. But he scrolled too fast and found himself looking at a photo not of the bride and groom and their wedding cake, but of himself and Chrissie, grinning next to the shining copper pot stills at the distillery they’d visited, their arms around one another. He’d forgotten about the photo the tour guide had taken, and seeing it now was like a punch straight to the heart.
Walking away from Chrissie wasn’t an option. He couldn’t just let her go. He had to find some way to convince her not to turn her back on what they had between them, or what might be.
Keith glanced at Sophie. As if reading his mind, she smiled and nodded. He raced for the pub door and was soon hurrying along Shaw Street and on to Caledonia Road. But when he reached the cake shop, he found it closed and locked. Frowning, he scolded himself for forgetting that Chrissie’s wedding cake competition was today. Of course her shop was closed.
Pieces clicked together in his mind, but he didn’t like how they fitted. The cake now being cut by Big Kev and his new bride over at The Crooked Thistle looked a lot like the cake Chrissie had described making for the cake competition. So why was it sitting in his pub instead of up on some judging podium? Had Chrissie made two cakes for some reason?
It didn’t make any sense.
Keith turned and ran back up Caledonia Road, and kept running until he reached the street where Chrissie lived. By the time he knocked on her door, sweat was beading at his forehead.
“Chrissie, are you in there?” Keith shouted when his knock went unanswered. He rang the doorbell and knocked all the louder.
Finally, the door swung open, but it wasn’t Chrissie who stood on the other side of it.
“Keith!” Alison said in surprise. She held Poppy in her arms and the little girl grinned at Keith and reached out a chubby hand.
“I’m looking for your mother,” Keith wheezed, tickling Poppy’s chin and grinning when she squealed in response.
“She’s not here,” Alison said.
“Is she at the cake competition?”
Alison shook her head. “We just got back.”
“Did she win?”
“No, she didn’t win.”
A bolt of sadness shot through him. “Her cake…”
“There was an accident at the shop,” Alison said. “Gregor knocked over the cake that Mum made for your friend’s wedding, so she sent the one she’d designed for the competition instead.”
Keith’s breath caught. Even in the face of catastrophe, Chrissie hadn’t let down the bride and groom. Of course she hadn’t.
“She quickly decorated another cake for the competition,” Alison explained, “but it wasn’t fancy enough to win. Once we got home, Mum said she needed some fresh air. I don’t know where she went.”
But Keith realised instantly that he knew exactly where she’d gone. He turned and ran to find her.
36
Chrissie looked up at the cherry trees swaying in the warm spring breeze moving through Couper Park. Almost all the pretty pink blossoms were gone now, the petals carpeting the ground below, and only a few clusters still hung on the branches. Just last week the trees had been in full bloom. Funny how quickly things changed, Chrissie thought, and how fast life moved on.
She hadn’t meant to come into the park, but had found herself here all the same. After she’d left the house in the direction of The Crooked Thistle, her courage had failed her. What would she say to Keith when she got there? How could she apologise for throwing him off the way she had? And how could she explain that she’d made a terrible mistake and that she’d been too bone-headed to realise it?
As she stood beneath the trees, she tried to find the right words, but no words would come. Everything running through her mind only sounded stupid and jumbled. And she feared something even worse than sounding stupid – that Keith would reject her after the way she’d behaved.
“Chrissie?”
Turning, she saw Keith walking through the gates of Couper Park. Her stomach somersaulted and instantly she knew what she had to say. She had to tell him the truth – and the truth was that she was falling for him. It was as simple as that.
But before she could say anything, Keith spoke first.
“That was quite a wedding cake you dropped off at The Crooked Thistle.”
Chrissie blushed. “I know it’s not what you ordered, but—”
“It’s beautiful, Chrissie. Alison told me what happened. You lost your chance to win that cake competition because you didn’t want to disappoint a bride.”
“The paying client comes first, always.”
Keith smiled. “There’s more to it than that. What you did meant a lot to the bride and groom. And to me.”
Chrissie felt something bubble up inside her, something she couldn’t resist, something she didn’t want to resist.
“I know your family comes first, Chrissie,” Keith said softly, “and that your business comes second. But I’m hoping there might be space for me as a distant third. Or even fourth or fifth.”
Chrissie’s lips twitched. “There might be.”
He studied her, his eyes searching hers for a long moment before he returned her smile.
“I was always looking for the next forever. I don’t want to do that anymore, Chrissie. It’s time to think about the moment I’m in, not the ones that might lie ahead.” He gestured to the bench beneath the cherry tree. “I liked sitting here with you. And I know it sounds silly, but—”
“It doesn’t sound silly,” she said, stepping closer. “I liked sitting here with you, too.”
Keith pointed once more to the bench. “Then maybe we could sit for a minute, together.”
“I’d like that.”
They sat and Keith’s hand brushed against Chrissie’s, reminding her how much she’d liked the feel of him beside her. She shuffled a little closer on the bench. Keith smiled and shuffled closer still.
“I’m sorry you didn’t win the cake competition,” he said.
Chrissie shrugged. “It wasn’t a dead loss. It got me thinking about things and whether it’s time to hire some staff to help me run my shop. Maybe I could even start taking a little time off.”
“Really?” Keith said, raising his eyebrows. “And what were you thinking of doing with your time off?”
Just then, the buskers arrived, as if by some sweet magic, and set up their guitars and began playing above the noise of a busy Tuesday afternoon on Shaw Street. Chrissie smiled and opened her bag and pulled out the napkin on which they’d written their list of dream destinations that night in the hotel restaurant. The ink was splotched and blurry now, but it was a treasure to her just the same.
“I was thinking I’d like to visit that secluded island beach we talked about.”
“The one at Luskentyre?” Keith asked, hope no
w filling his eyes as he glanced at the inky napkin, and then at Chrissie.
She nodded. “You snuck into my life when I was least expecting it, Keith, and I like how I feel when I’m with you. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I don’t know where this is going. But I really want to find out.”
Keith smiled and took her hand. “I thought I’d scared you off.”
“I scared myself off. I don’t plan on doing it again.”
With another smile, Keith leaned in and kissed her, sending sweet little ripples across her skin.
“So, we’ll go to that beach and walk through the surf at sunset,” Chrissie said between kisses.
“Sounds perfect.”
“And we’ll see what this thing is between us, and whether we like it enough to keep it.”
“Sounds even more perfect,” Keith said with another kiss.
“Forever can take care of itself, like you said. Right now, we’ll just enjoy this moment.”
Keith looked so deeply into her eyes that her heart beat inside her chest like butterfly wings.
“I already am,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her deeper into the kiss as the buskers played on and the last of the cherry blossoms began falling all around them.
THE END
(Please turn the page for a message from Alix.)
A Message from Alix
Thank you for reading The Next Forever and visiting Fairhill for a while. If you’ve read the first Fairhill book, The Perfect Moment, you already knew Keith McGraw and I hope you enjoyed meeting him again and following his story. When I wrote The Perfect Moment, Keith was only supposed to be a minor character, but he really came alive for me and I knew that he would have his own tale to tell. I wanted to make sure the woman he fell in love with was worthy of his good heart and it took a while to find Chrissie and know she was the one for him. While thinking about the story, I took a long spring walk one day and came across the most glorious spring cherry blossoms. The pink flowers fluttering beneath the blue sky formed a lasting image in my mind that went on to frame the key scenes where Keith and Chrissie find one another in Couper Park. As I thought about the journey my two characters would take together, I thought too of Keith’s great love of Scotch whisky and found myself remembering a wonderful trip with my husband to a whisky distillery on Arran, and knew that a similar adventure would be perfect for the story. This also gave me a good excuse to enjoy a few whiskies while I wrote the book, just to make sure I’d got the details right…