by Liz Eeles
‘Hey, Flora. What a fabulous event at your place this afternoon.’
Amy waves a half-eaten roast pork roll at me. She’s sitting on a picnic rug with her teenage daughter, who’s shunned her mother’s more retro style for skinny jeans and a cropped T-shirt.
‘Thanks, Amy. Glad you could make it.’
‘Wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Everyone’s talking about it.’
I smile and wave back, feeling a warm glow inside. Amy is the fourth person who’s greeted me since I came into the park five minutes ago. And every greeting has buoyed me up and made me feel as if I could truly belong here. It’s a feeling I’ve not had since Malcolm and I left Yorkshire.
Oxford is historic and beautiful but it always seems to me that the city is for the young, or full of ghosts. Whereas, here… I look around me, at the dark shadows of hills rolling into the distance and the town’s glorious stone buildings, and I thank my lucky stars that I took a chance on Honeyford Bookshop and The Cosy Kettle Café. It’s going to take a while to get used to the new path my life has taken, but I’m confident that this wonderful little community will support me.
As the band belts out ‘Top of the World’ and the sky darkens, I spot a tall, familiar person at the water’s edge. Daniel has Caleb on his shoulders and he’s pointing across the river to where the fireworks will be lit.
Caleb’s face breaks into a huge grin when he sees me, and Luna, who’s with them, beckons me over. She’s rocking a long cream kaftan that’s embroidered with gold thread and sprinkled with sequins.
‘Flora! We were wondering where you were. You haven’t brought Malcolm with you?’
‘He’s working tonight, in the restaurant.’
‘Of course. Don’t you think this whole day has been absolutely wonderful? People have come together and my son has been revealed to be a writer of some repute.’ She waves her arms around like a windmill. ‘Honeyford is full of positive energy and there’s magic in the air.’
Daniel swings Caleb off his shoulders and turns towards me, his face tired in the fading light. ‘What happened to your drunk author?’ he asks. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t help sort him out but I got rather swamped by people after the Q&A.’
‘That’s OK. Mr Kinsley’s all taken care of. Malcolm took him back to Oxford and put him on a train. He’d sobered up a fair bit and was very apologetic when he rang me. He’s promised to come and do an event in the shop when his new book’s published next month.’
‘I should think so, too,’ says Luna. ‘He could have wrecked your afternoon if my wonderful son hadn’t stepped into the brink.’
She looks up at Daniel with such naked affection that I suddenly miss my mum, who died so long ago. She lived a quiet life of domesticity and seemed happy enough, but I rather think she would approve of the new direction my life has taken. I’m not sure she ever much liked Malcolm, anyway.
Two middle-aged women are wandering past, and they whisper and nudge each other when they spot Daniel. He’s become quite the local celebrity, and I really hope he’s not regretting outing himself this afternoon. For me.
‘Are you famous, Dad?’ chuckles Caleb, pressing his head against his father’s chest. ‘Now everyone knows you wrote that book with the half-dressed lady on it?’
‘Hardly,’ says Daniel, his face in shadow so his expression is hidden.
‘I don’t know. You’ll have loads of women throwing themselves at you now they know that beneath that austere exterior you’re really a vulnerable old softie.’ I smile to hide the emotions that idea has thrown up. ‘I did appreciate you stepping in to save the day this afternoon. I know it must have been hard for you because you’ve been so secretive about the book.’
‘It was rather terrifying, but I was happy to help. I couldn’t bear seeing you so upset. I…’
When he leaves his sentence unfinished and shakes his head, Luna grabs her grandson’s hand. ‘Why don’t you two take a walk and have a chat about things? Caleb and I are going to nab a ringside seat for the fireworks.’
‘We’ll come with you,’ says Daniel, but Luna is having none of it. She literally pushes him towards me and pulls Caleb away before we can protest.
‘Shall we?’ asks Daniel. ‘My mother seems determined that we should talk.’
His voice is distant and cold, again. Daniel Purfoot, touchy-feely author, has disappeared and the prickly man I first encountered is back. Disappointment lodges in my chest but I nod and we walk side by side, past the crowds to the edge of the park and into the town.
The streets, thronging with people just a couple of hours ago, are quiet now and lamps in shop windows are casting golden pools of light onto the pavements. Discarded rainbow-coloured streamers twist and dance in the warm breeze blowing off the hills.
‘Charter Day seems to have been a great success,’ I say as we walk past the church and along Parsonage Lane, which rises towards the edge of town. ‘Don’t you reckon? Despite the fighting, the bake-off went well and the cakes were delicious. Dick had so many slices, he had a sugar high and started behaving as inappropriately as Stanley.’
When Daniel laughs, it seems to break the ice. And for the next ten minutes we chat easily about drunken authors, Becca’s amazing kettle sculpture and Henry VIII lookalikes as we keep on climbing, past tiny thatched cottages with dark windows. He doesn’t mention Day of Desire, or Malcolm, and neither do I.
At last we reach the edge of the town, where the houses stop and the lane winds into the darkening distance. Daniel leans against the gate to a field and looks out over Honeyford, spread below us. His strong face is illuminated by beams of light from a lone street lamp. Above us, stars are twinkling as the sky turns midnight blue.
It’s all very peaceful and soothing, or it would be if today’s events weren’t suddenly catching up with me. I guess that’s not surprising – so far, I’ve taken part in Charter Day, talked to a million people, brokered peace in a cake war, helped a rat-arsed author into bed, discovered that Daniel’s alter ego is April Devlin, and broken up for good with my husband.
It’s been one hell of a day and I’d quite like to sleep for a week. I stifle a yawn as Daniel asks calmly, ‘When are you moving out of Starlight Cottage?’
Oh. It seems I might have outstayed my welcome. I do my best to keep my expression neutral, so the dismay I’m feeling won’t show.
‘Soon, I guess. Though I’ll miss the cottage and that amazing view and your mum and Caleb and… you.’
‘I doubt that,’ says Daniel, coolly. ‘You’ll be far too busy helping your husband in his restaurant to miss any of us for long.’
‘What do you mean? I haven’t said I’m going back to Malcolm.’
‘There’s no need. I saw him on his knees in front of you and Dick spotted the two of you later, hand in hand in Sheep Street. It was pretty obvious what was going on and I’m happy for you, Flora. Honestly, I am. I know it’s been a hard decision to make and I’m glad that you’ve made what you feel is the best choice for you.’
An owl, hidden in the dark trees behind us, hoots mournfully as it hits me that Daniel really doesn’t seem to care that I’m going back to Malcolm. Though why would he? I’m the annoying house guest who barged into his bedroom, kept secrets about his son, and outed him as an author. It seems the frissons of… something that I felt between us at times were merely the ridiculous imaginings of a middle-aged woman in emotional freefall.
But if Daniel’s keen to get me out of his hair why did he bother coming to my rescue this afternoon?
‘Can I ask you a question?’ I say, leaning on the metal gate beside him. ‘Why didn’t you tell me that you were April Devlin? Why didn’t you tell anyone?’
Daniel stares at the firework display that’s started far below us. Bursts of red, green and gold are blazing over the buildings of Honeyford.
‘I suppose I was embarrassed. Look at me, Flora. I’m a blunt middle-aged accountant with a small child and no prior writing experience so I thought
people would laugh at me if they knew I’d written a book like that. I thought you’d laugh at me. What was it that Malcolm called it – “a sissy potboiler”?’
‘Malcolm wouldn’t know a good book if it jumped up and slapped him in the face.’
‘Although I’ve always wanted to write, it’s not a sensible use of my time, is it, when I’ve got a young child to support on my own. That book flowed out of me while I was grieving for Emma and I was all over the place and, though I wanted it to be out there in the world, I wasn’t brave enough to reveal that April was really me.’
‘Until this afternoon.’
‘Yeah, until then. And now my shameful secret is out.’ He grins. ‘And I thought it would be terrifying, and it was. But it was also quite liberating to say “I wrote this”, and to hear how much people seem to like it.’
‘They love it.’
‘Thanks to you and your faith in it.’ He catches my eye and only looks away when a rocket scatters silver stars above our heads.
‘And now you’re free to write another book, as Daniel Purfoot.’
‘Is the world ready for that?’
‘Definitely. You have real talent, Daniel, and insight. So why did you decide to let the cat out of the bag this afternoon?’
‘Ah, Flora.’ Daniel hesitates. ‘You must know why. I did it to help you out. I did it for you. Oh, for goodness’ sake, I can’t do this.’ He starts pacing as crackles echo across the hills, and an appreciative roar floats up from the Memorial Park.
‘Can’t do what?’
‘Not say anything. I know it’s a fait accompli and I’m trying not to be blunt.’
‘Since when?’
‘Since my mother told me, just before we set off for the park this evening, to tone it down if I saw you. Apparently some people find my bluntness off-putting. Hard to believe, I know.’ He rolls his eyes and twists his mouth up in one corner. ‘And I’ve tried to keep out of all this because it’s none of my business. Not really. And I’m determined not to be overly blunt about it.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘But are you sure, Flora, about going back to Malcolm? You deserve more than a man who cheats on you and belittles your business and—’
‘Gets an author deliberately drunk to scupper my big event?’
When Daniel’s mouth falls open, I start massaging my temples to ward off the headache that’s threatening. ‘You were right. He admitted it, kind of. He was outed by Marina, the woman he slept with. She turned up in the café earlier and told me Malcolm was plying Mr Kinsley with wine like there was no tomorrow. That’s why we ran out of the café. He spotted her, grabbed my hand and pulled me after him.’
‘What a duplicitous, scheming little shit,’ says Daniel, all good intentions to rein in his bluntness forgotten. ‘He thinks he owns you, Flora. He wants you back under his thumb and doing what he thinks you should be allowed to do. He’s not good for you.’
‘I know. Which is one of the reasons why I’m not going back to him.’
Daniel stops pacing. ‘You’re definitely not going back?’
‘Nope. I’d made up my mind before I found out about his scheme to wreck my event. My future is here in Honeyford. It’s pretty scary, leaving a safe, predictable life behind and stepping out into the unknown. It may not even be the most sensible option, all things considered. But I’ve decided to do what your mum advised and follow my heart.’
‘I see.’ Daniel suddenly reaches out, grabs my hand and wraps his fingers around mine. ‘And now you’ve properly decided to leave your husband, would it be all right if I kissed you?’
His question catches me off guard and I become aware of the thud of my racing heart.
‘I’m not changing everything because of you,’ I tell him. ‘None of this is about you, Daniel. Not really. Leaving Malcolm is something I have to do for myself.’
‘I know that.’
‘And I need to move out of Starlight Cottage and find my own place. I’ve never lived on my own before and I need to try it.’
‘That makes sense.’
I’ve explained myself and my whole body is screaming just kiss him already! But my mouth carries on talking. ‘It’s just that I don’t want to live what someone else thinks my life should be. I’ve always been so sensible about everything and chosen the safe option, but now it’s time to take a deep breath and step out from Malcolm’s shadow into the light.’
OK, that sounds very over the top, but Daniel nods.
‘Absolutely.’
‘So I’m not leaving Malcolm and staying in Honeyford just because of the feelings I have for you.’
Aargh! Me and my big mouth and getting everything out into the open. I’ve just admitted out loud that my feelings for Daniel are not purely platonic. But he wants to kiss me, so that’s OK, isn’t it? Good grief, I’m so flustered and my heart is hammering and Daniel is standing so close.
‘I get it,’ he says, his breath warming my cheek. ‘And I’m not trying to muscle in or take over where Malcolm left off, Flora. Heaven knows, I’m as scared about my life changing as you are. But please, can I kiss you now, before I go crazy trying to hide how I feel about you?’
‘How you feel about me?’ I still appear to be talking, rather than kissing.
Daniel rakes his free hand through his hair. ‘I almost kissed you when you came into my room after the book club evening. But it would have been a mistake because you were so vulnerable and you still had to decide for yourself whether to go back to Malcolm. So I’ve tried to back off. But can I kiss you now that…?’
A rocket bursts above our heads, scattering golden filaments across the inky sky and drowning out the rest of Daniel’s question. But I’ve got the gist.
When I nod, he cups my cheeks in his warm hands and pauses for a heartbeat, his lips a fraction from mine, before our mouths touch. I slip my arms around his waist and pull myself tight against him as he kisses me more urgently, one hand pushing through my hair to the base of my neck. His other hand slips down my spine and comes to rest in the small of my back. Oh, boy, this kiss has been a long time coming and it’s all the sweeter for the wait.
When we eventually pull apart, my breath is coming in short gasps and Daniel splutters, ‘Wow.’ He laughs and I laugh too, caught up in the joy of this moment. Making a new life for myself in Honeyford won’t be easy, and who knows what will happen between me and Daniel, but things have certainly got off to a wonderful start.
Daniel hooks his arm around my shoulder and I snuggle into him as the fireworks display builds to a crescendo and lights up the golden-stone buildings of Honeyford. As another roar drifts up from the crowd far below us, I think of the people who have become dear to me in such a short space of time: Luna, Caleb, Becca and Callie, the members of the book club – and Daniel, of course. They’ve welcomed me and made me feel as though I belong here.
They are the living, breathing heart of this town that’s now my home. The town that I’ve come to love.
If you fell in love with Honeyford and can’t wait to visit again, why not discover Callie and Noah’s story? Spring is in the air, there’s change afoot in Honeyford, and Stanley is up to his usual antics in New Starts and Cherry Tarts at the Cosy Kettle.
Available now!
New Starts and Cherry Tarts at the Cosy Kettle
A heartwarming, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy
Fans of Cathy Bramley, Debbie Johnson and Jenny Colgan will fall in love with The Cosy Kettle café, where slices of lemon meringue pie are served in the sun-dappled garden – and where Callie’s new beginning collides with an old flame…
After yet another failed romance, twenty-six-year-old Callie Fulbright is giving up on love. She’s determined to throw all her efforts into her very own, brand-new café: The Cosy Kettle. Serving hot tea, cherry tarts and a welcoming smile to the friendly locals proves to be the perfect distraction, and Callie feels a flush of pride at the fledgling business she’s built.
But her new-found confidence is soon put to the
test when her gorgeous ex reappears in the quaint little village. She’ll never forget the heartache Noah caused her years ago, but when they bump into each other on the cobbled streets of Honeyford she can’t help but feel a flutter in her chest…
As Callie and Noah share laughter and memories, she starts to wonder if this could be her second chance at happiness. But when Callie discovers that someone is mysteriously trying to ruin the café’s reputation… she has an awful suspicion that Noah knows who’s involved.
Was she wrong to ever trust him again? And can she find out who’s behind the lies and rumours, before it’s too late for The Cosy Kettle?
Available here!
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Books by Liz Eeles
The Cosy Kettle series
New Starts and Cherry Tarts at the Cosy Kettle
A Summer Escape and Strawberry Cake at the Cosy Kettle
The Salt Bay series
Annie’s Holiday by the Sea
Annie’s Christmas by the Sea
Annie’s Summer by the Sea
A Letter from Liz
You’ve reached the end of the book which means I now get a chance to say a very big thank you for reading A Summer Escape and Strawberry Cake at the Cosy Kettle. I’m delighted that you chose to spend time in Honeyford, and I really hope you enjoyed Flora’s story.