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‘I think spring will be early this year. Quite often is around here.’
Jed sat back, taking up most of the room on the bench. ‘And I wouldn’t dream of complaining about this view. It’s fantastic, isn’t it?’
Millie nodded and, feeling self-conscious about eating something so messy in front of him, wrapped the remainder of her pasty back into its paper bag. ‘You can see Portland today. That’s the bump of land far out to the right of the coast. And the sun’s just coming onto the red cliffs at West Bay, look. That’s where they film Broadchurch. And the highest bit of the coast is –’
‘Golden Cap. I know.’
‘Sorry, was I being boring? Too much of a tour guide?’ Millie deflated.
‘Millie, you’re never boring. It’s just that I know Lyme a bit. Ma and Pa had a holiday cottage near Dorchester for a couple of summers.’
‘Oh. I thought you said you’d never had a beach holiday.’
‘And I never have. Mum didn’t like the mess everything got into with sand. So we did days out, the museum here in Lyme, the tank place over at Bovington, that kind of thing. My brother and I liked it best when we had a day by the pool, though.’
‘You had a pool? A swimming pool?’
Jed nodded. ‘Yes, for a while it was great. Alex and I spent all day splashing about in it. Mum got bored, though, after a few years and bought something in France.’
‘Like you do.’
Jed didn’t seem to notice her mild sarcasm and answered cheerfully enough, ‘As you do. She’s sold that now. A restless spirit is my mother. She mentioned she’d quite like a pied- à-terre in Lyme, so I’ve just been pressing my nose against the estate agents’ windows.’
‘Along with everyone else, I would imagine.’
Jed laughed again. ‘Oh yes. I had quite a crowd to fight my way through.’
‘Lyme’s very sought-after. It’s the thing to do when coming here. Gaze at the houses for sale and gasp at the ridiculously high prices.’
‘Actually, I didn’t think they were all that bad; certainly not compared to London.’ He stretched his legs with evident enjoyment and nodded at the view. ‘And you can see why it’s so popular. I wouldn’t mind living here myself. Have you had much success with your shopping?’
Millie was about to launch into how difficult it was trying to be generous with a limited amount of money, but didn’t feel someone who accepted Lyme’s property prices so glibly and had a mother who bought and sold holiday cottages on a whim would empathise. ‘Oh yes,’ she nodded. ‘Think I’ve got what I wanted.’
She looked at his bright-orange puffa jacket and at the collar of his rugby shirt, snowy white against his tanned skin. Who was sun-tanned in January? She spotted the gleam of an expensive-looking wristwatch and the designer logo on his coat. He was a creature from a very different world to hers and her little café in Berecombe. She wondered, fleetingly, whether Cinderella had ever really been happy with her Prince Charming. They hardly had scrubbing floors in common. Millie had to scrub the old lino in the café quite a lot, what with muddy sand being walked in. She couldn’t exactly see Jed on his hands and knees, dipping a brush in a bucket.
Millie dismissed the mental image of Jed with soapsuds on his nose with a giggle. ‘So is that why you’re in the area? To suss out property for your mum?’
‘Partly.’ Jed replaced his sunglasses. He gave an embarrassed grin. ‘You don’t say no to my mother and live. She’s supposed to be checking up on me at some point.’ He paused and then added, ‘But I’ve one or two clients around here too, so I might have a bit of business to deal with. And how did you like the shopping, Trevor?’ He bent down and fussed the dog.
The change of subject wasn’t subtle and Millie didn’t miss it.
‘I envy you being able to have a dog. I’m always here, there and everywhere. It wouldn’t be fair on it.’ He sighed. ‘Not enough time, either.’
There was that note of yearning again. The same as when he’d complimented Berecombe. Millie didn’t understand it. How could anyone like him be envious of what little she had? ‘What do you do, Jed? For a living, I mean.’
He continued to fuss Trevor and didn’t answer for a moment. Then seemed to come to a decision. ‘I’m a management consultant. Freelance.’
‘Sounds high-pressured.’
‘It can be.’ He straightened and looked out to sea. ‘It most certainly can be. I enjoy a challenge, though.’
‘And you say you’ve got clients around here?’
‘One or two. Mostly in Exeter. I do some work for the university and for Lodgings.’
‘Blimey. They’re the biggest chain of solicitors in the south-west.’ Millie was impressed.
He named another couple of prominent companies and then returned to tickling under Trevor’s chin.
‘What does it involve? Your job?’
‘Oh, you know, I identify strengths and weaknesses, help to develop strategies, reduce costs. That sort of thing. Help companies do what they do but better, I suppose. And it’s always useful to have an outsider look over things.’
‘True.’
‘I’m the maverick of the family, though. My brother, Alex, is the successful one. Banker in the city,’ he added at her blank look.
It really was another existence. For the first time, Millie felt restlessness tug at her, felt the frustration of a life that had been so horribly derailed on that awful day in June. The one when the police had arrived on her doorstep asking if there was anyone who could be with her. The only people she could think of had been the Bartletts. Owners of The Plaice Place and parents of her best friend at school. Millie had a sudden vision of Dora pushing past them, running into the café and bursting into hysterical tears. Mrs Bartlett had simply hugged a dry-eyed Millie to her. Millie hadn’t cried for a long, long time. Instead, she had given up on school and a university place, to run the café. She’d layered her grief under solid hard work ever since. Had re-named the café and begun to enjoy the life it gave her. But what if her parents hadn’t died? What if she’d gone to university after all, got a job like Jed’s or his high-flying brother’s? Trevor nudged at her knee and whined a little, bringing her back. It was stupid to think that way. Her life was perfect as it was.
Jed had been talking, explaining more of what his job entailed but she’d missed most of it. She gathered it meant a lot of international travelling. She’d been right. They were from different worlds. Different galaxies, even. She imagined him with a sleek blonde on his arm, at parties, skiing, at one of those resorts where cute little huts were built over a tropical sea. Or did that constitute a beach holiday? She doubted it.
‘You’re miles away,’ Jed said and took her hand in his. ‘That’s why I don’t go on about my job, or one of the reasons, anyway. It bores people rigid. And I’d hate to bore you.’
He was very close. Yes, they were different animals but even Millie, inexperienced as she was, couldn’t mistake the warmth in his expression.
‘I’m so sorry. You’re right, I was miles away.’ Fervently hoping her hand wasn’t greasy from the pasty and that she didn’t have onion breath, she blurted out, ‘I’m just a bit worried about how the new café opening up in Berecombe will impact on my place.’
Jed sat back and removed his hand. Perhaps she had bad breath after all?
‘I’ve heard the gossip in town. You’re talking about Blue Elephant?’ he asked after a long pause. ‘I can’t see it myself.’
‘Can’t you?’
‘Millie, you’ve got something very special going on. Millie Vanilla’s does exceptional food, great coffee and you’ve a loyal band of customers on top of seasonal trade. You’re at the heart of your community, any fool can see that. I certainly did on my first visit. They all love you, don’t they?’ He shoved his sunglasses up his nose with one finger and seemed embarrassed at being so serious. ‘Plus,’ he added, more flippantly, ‘you’re much nearer to the beach. Practically on it. And that sun terrace you have is a huge bonus.’
Millie wasn’t sure she was loved by everyone. It certainly didn’t feel that way with Biddy most of the time. ‘The terrace is my secret weapon, I agree. It’s a fantastic draw in the summer.’ She glanced across. ‘So you think I’m worrying about nothing?’
‘Well, it’s wise to be cautious. I wouldn’t invest in changing any major stuff for the time being. Sticking with what you know goes down well with your customers and your strong brand.’
Millie laughed. ‘My brand? I don’t think I have one of those.’
‘You may not think it but, yes, Millie Vanilla’s is strongly branded. In its own way. And remember your links to your community. Blue Elephant can never hope to emulate that.’
‘Thanks, Jed. I appreciate you saying that. Is that some of your management consultancy in action?’
He laughed. ‘Sort of. Need a lift back to Berecombe?’
‘No thanks. I’ve got my car.’ She rose and he passed her the shopping bags.
‘Millie, I know you work all the hours God sends but I’d like to take you out one evening, if I may?’
Millie looked down at his face, wishing he’d take off his sunglasses so she could see his eyes. Tessa’s words rushed back at her. Her friend had been right, she did deserve some fun. When had she last been out with a man before Jed came along? She wracked her brain to no avail. She and Tessa hadn’t been out on a girly night in Exeter for weeks either. They’d not even managed a pizza in Lyme.
She smiled at him, making her decision. ‘Now the literary festival is over, I’m not staying open late in the evenings, so yes, Jed, you may take me out. In fact, I’d like nothing better.’
Chapter 11 (#u08bb6896-9b2e-51e4-8a91-0d13b06c0a4b)
Jed picked her up in a Golf, top of the range, and obviously a hire car.
When he saw her admiring its plush leather interior, he explained. ‘I’m never in one place for very long.’ There was more regret in his voice. ‘So there seems little point in getting a car of my own. I just hire one wherever I am.’
It was one more indication of his peripatetic lifestyle.
‘Where are you staying, while you’re around here I mean?’
‘Oh, haven’t I said? The Lord of the Manor.’ He steered the car out of its tight spot with ease. ‘Do you know it?’
Millie suppressed a laugh. ‘Yes, I know it. We’re not going there for dinner, are we?’
‘No fear,’ Jed said stoutly. ‘The food’s dire. I can’t believe the place gets any business.’
‘Neither can I. The Simpson family, who run it, have had it for donkey’s years but don’t like spending money on it. I haven’t been in for ages.’ She glanced at his profile while he drove. He had a very lovely high-bridged nose and enviably clear skin. ‘What’s it like?’
‘The public rooms are okay, if you like shabby-chic that’s original Jacobean and not designer. But my room is a nightmare. Hot water at random times, the windows have gaps around them bigger than the frames and non-existent heating. I only had enough hot water for the quickest of showers tonight. I hope I don’t smell.’
Using it as an excuse, Millie leaned over and sniffed. He smelled heavenly, as usual. ‘No, you don’t smell of anything you shouldn’t,’ she said, taking in a lungful of something woody. It made a change to be with a man who smelled of something other than Old Spice, as Arthur invariably did. Along with wet dog on occasion.
Jed concentrated as he turned right onto the A35 before adding, ‘But it’s the lack of Wi-Fi that really irritates me. The place claims to have superfast broadband but I haven’t seen any evidence of it so far.’
‘To be fair, the internet is notoriously slow around here. I’ve never been sure why. Too many hills, maybe? In some places it’s hard to get a signal on your mobile, let alone anything else.’
‘I’ve noticed.’ He flashed a swift grin. ‘How on earth do you manage? To run a business, I mean.’
‘Oh, we do okay. Sometimes it’s even quite nice to do things the old-fashioned way. You know, on the landline.’ She pulled a face. ‘Or by post.’
‘Do you know, I think I’ve had better reception in the middle of the desert than Dorset or Devon?’ Then he heard, properly, what she’d said. ‘Are you poking fun at me?’
‘Not at all, but don’t you think it’s good to occasionally be away from all that social media and stuff? I can’t see the point of posting pictures of what you’ve had for lunch. Fries my brain sometimes.’ Millie felt herself tense. They were approaching the spot where her parents had died. Even after all these years, she still couldn’t pass it without grief stealing in.
‘I think you’re delightfully and gorgeously old-fashioned, Millie. And I know what you mean, but customers nowadays expect to be connected to a fast service all the time. And moan like hell if they can’t.’ He gunned the Golf’s engine and overtook expertly. He must have noticed her clenched fists. ‘Are you alright? Not a nervous passenger?’
They were past. It was okay. ‘I’m fine.’ She forced herself to relax and to focus on more pleasant things. On the here and now. On the fact that Jed had called her gorgeous. Well, sort of. ‘So, if you’re not treating me to an evening of dubious gastronomic delight at the Lord, where are we going tonight?’
‘You’ll see.’ With a smile, Jed flicked on some music and they didn’t speak again.
It turned out to be a country-house hotel on the edge of Dorchester. As Jed swung the car into the car park, he asked, ‘French. Is that alright with you? It’s one of my favourite countries and I love the food. This place was recommended to me, so I hope it lives up to its reputation.’
They parked between a Bentley and a Porsche. Millie looked around in dismay. She should have guessed it would be an expensive sort of place. She was going to be completely under-dressed in leggings and flowery mini-dress.
Jed read her panic. ‘You look beautiful. You always do. Don’t worry and try to relax. I want this to be a real treat for you. Thought it might make a change for you not to cook. I only hope the food comes up to your standards.’
Millie felt his appreciative gaze on her and blushed. She added ‘beautiful’ to his list of compliments and the glow inside her spread.
The passenger door was opened by a liveried car-park attendant who murmured a reverent, ‘Good evening, madam.’ Millie tried not to giggle and looked up at the hotel’s subtly lit Georgian facade. She wondered just what she’d got herself into.
Her recollection of the evening was of soft music, good wine, fantastically complicated food and impeccable service. From the moment she stepped from the car she wasn’t aware of having to lift a finger or even open a door. All evening her needs were not only met but anticipated. Once in the lounge, a soft-footed waiter presented her with a glass of champagne and another brought a tiny canapé of salmon gravlax. Seated at a table, covered in a snowy white cloth, an amuse bouche of different-coloured beetroots and creamy goat’s cheese arrived, followed by brill with citrus couscous. The service was attentive and discreet. She didn’t have to wait a second for her water or wine glass to be topped up. It was divine and a world away from her little café in Berecombe. Jed, she noticed, had a glass of champagne and then drank sparkling water all night. He seemed not only to be at home in his surroundings but was almost casually contemptuous of it.
Sighing over delicious chocolatey petits fours she said, ‘I’d love to travel as you obviously have.’
Jed shrugged. ‘If I’m honest, it can get pretty boring. And mostly all I see is the inside of airports and hotels. I’ve done some cool stuff, dining with a Bedouin tribe under the desert stars is a stand-out, but it’s not much fun without someone to share it with.’ He flicked a glance at Millie. ‘Just lately I’ve developed a real hunger to settle down somewhere. Put some roots down. With that special person.’
‘Ha!’ Millie blurted, aware she’d had quite a bit to drink. ‘Gotta find her first.’
Jed gave her a slow smile. ‘That’s very true.’
Millie licked melted chocolate off her finger and frowned. ‘So you mean you’d like marriage, a family, the whole commitment?’
‘Yeah. I think it’s the right time for me. I’ve rattled around the world on my own for too long. It would be nice to be in one place, be part of a community, like you are.’
Millie’s face burned. It could be the alcohol or it could be the picture that was forming of Jed rocking a baby in his arms. A baby that had his dark eyes and a mop of her unruly hair. Whoa, Millie, she admonished herself. Too much too soon. She gazed at Jed. There was no mistaking the heat in his expression. She finished her coffee in one gulp. ‘Still, as I’ve said, you’ve got to find that special someone first.’
He smiled enigmatically and then called a waiter over. ‘More coffee, please. And Millie, would you like a brandy with yours?’
She nodded. She was bursting with questions to ask him but was too self-conscious – and quite possibly too tipsy. Instead, she tried for nonchalance when spotting a well-known actor and two presenters from the local news. And then, as the alcohol really kicked in, she surrendered herself to the happy feeling of being completely and utterly cosseted.
‘Don’t know about you,’ Jed said, in the car on the way home. ‘But I didn’t think that wild garlic consommé was a patch on your butternut squash soup.’
Millie giggled sleepily, replete with good food and luxury. She could get used to this. ‘It was a lovely evening,’ she said, snuggling down into her coat. ‘Thank you. You were right, it has been a real treat.’ She rested her head back and enjoyed the scent of the leather upholstery.
‘Good. I get the feeling you haven’t had many treats. I was delighted to indulge you.’ As he manoeuvred the car out of the car park, he began to explain that the hotel was trying to emulate Le Manoir aux Quat’ Saisons,but he still preferred the original. Millie didn’t reply; she was fast asleep.
Jed woke her by tweaking her nose gently.
Millie came to, flustered and embarrassed. ‘We’re back in Berecombe? I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I slept all the way!’ She looked around. They were parked up on the promenade outside her café.
He rested an arm along her headrest. ‘You know, I think you work too hard.’
Millie gazed into his dark eyes, their expression impenetrable, even in the glow from the lights strung up along the prom. He was very close and nerves made her breathy. ‘Do I? I’ve normally got bags of energy. It’s just that –’
She was silenced by his kiss. His hand cupped her cheekbone and she found the touch of his long fingers immeasurably exciting. His lips were cool and expert and Millie gave in. Time for a bit of fun, she decided. I don’t really know who you are or how long you’ll be around, but at this precise moment I don’t care. Then his kiss deepened and she stopped thinking altogether.
It seemed only seconds later that he was pulling back.
‘Don’t stop.’
‘Millie, my love, it’s late. I’m assuming you have to get up at some unearthly hour in the morning and I have to fly to Paris tomorrow.’
‘Oh.’
