| |
I took refuge from the rain in my favorite waterfront café. From here, I could watch the clouds whipping across the sky—one minute gray, the next black. The ever-shifting patterns matched my mood. Relief that I had new premises. Worry at the cost to complete the fit out for my needs. Excitement that I was back in business. Anxiety at the effort needed to relaunch. Nagging fear that I wouldn’t be able to cover the increase in rent.
While I waited for my almond croissant and mochachino to arrive, I dug out my phone again. Who to share the good news with?
I called Mum. She picked up on the third ring, sounding slightly alarmed—her usual reaction to unexpected calls.
“Kitty-kat. What’s up? I’m on my way out. Eric’s leading a day-walk today for the local tramping club, and I’m meeting them at the halfway point with refreshments.”
Unbidden, Bruce’s voice echoed inside my head. It’s hiking, not tramping. Brought up in England, he never understood the New Zealand preoccupation for hiking through the bush, the wild countryside that covered most of the hills. I was inclined to agree. Given the choice of sitting in a warm café, dry and safe, or fighting through torrential rain on an exposed hillside? No contest. My parents were addicts, though.
“Ah... Nothing. I just wanted to catch up. I’m moving premises, with my cake business.” Silence met my words, and I hastened to fill the gap. “My old store is closed, for earthquake strengthening.”
“That’s nice.” Nice? Did she hear what I said? “Sorry, lovie, but I have to go. I don’t want to be late.”
“There was an invasion of elephants, too.” I said the first thing that popped into my mind, to see if she was listening.
Too late. She’d disconnected.
“Elephants?” The waitress stared at me, a puzzled expression on her face. She was about my age, but slender to the point of waif-ness. She not only had a thigh gap between her legs, she had an entire continent between them. Her closefitting T-shirt accentuated her narrow waist and flat stomach, whereas that outfit on me would make me look like—yes—an elephant.
“Private joke,” I mumbled. “Thank you.”
She glanced at the buttery pastry in front of me, and darted her gaze to my stomach. Dear God. I couldn’t wait for her to go. She was judging me on my food choice.
With a faint attempt at defiance, I picked up the pastry and bit into it. Crumbs showered over me, and disappeared down my cleavage. Great. All I needed now was to throw the hot drink into my lap, to complete the picture.
I swallowed. “On second thought,” I said, before she could leave, “can I take this to go, please?”
I strode outside a minute later, breakfast clutched in my hands, and my mood plummeting further with every step. I dumped the croissant in the first trash can I came to, and after taking a long slurp of the drink, abandoned that too. Nothing like a spot of fat-shaming, to remind me of my attempt to diet.
By the time I arrived back at my apartment, I was soaked from the rain, my hair was windswept, and my smart dress was damp and crumpled. Bloody Wellington weather. I should bite the bullet and head up to Auckland instead, to enjoy their almost-tropical climate. It would be a bigger market to crack, but with more competition and higher prices for property.
Maybe I’d update my website today, and not just with the new location. I had more pictures to upload to my gallery, and a couple of extra reviews to add. That meant going back to Kapiti. I’d left my laptop in the rental cottage.
I checked the local news on my phone and found the highway slip had been cleared. After a change of clothes, I returned up the coast.
Two and a half hours later, after what should have been an hour’s drive, I walked into my holiday home. I hoped to see a note pinned to the door or lying on the outside table, telling me Jasper returned in one piece, but there was nothing.
The trains appeared to be running to their usual timetable, and there was no reason to assume he was still in Wellington, but I had to go to his place, to check. Guilt stabbed at me. He was in such pain last night. Walking to the station wouldn’t have helped.
Holly’s car was parked in the driveway, so someone was home. A cacophony of woofs sounded when I knocked on the door, and Holly answered moments later.
“Hi.” She peered behind me. “Jas not with you?”
My heart sank. “No. He was taking the train back. I had stuff to do in town.”
“Oh. Okay.” She stepped back, one hand holding back the dog at her side. “Come in. Please. I need a referee.”
I eyed the hound, and it glared back at me, drool escaping from its mouth. Did it see me as an early dinner? “Will, you please hold onto that one?” I gestured at the beast. “And where’s the other?”
Holly’s lips twitched. “They have names,” she said, fighting a laugh. “Gwen and Lily. They’re more likely to lick you to death than bite, but I’ll put them in the yard. Wait here.”
Sure enough, she was back within seconds. “All clear. Come in. I’m stuck in a tricky situation, you see. Jasper’s ex came to see him, and despite my hints and suggestions, she refuses to leave.”
Oh no. I dug my heels into the carpet. Super-glamorous Cindy? Possibly the last person I could face. “I don’t know,” I said.
Holly grabbed my arm. “I hardly know her. Just stay a little while. Or tell her Jas isn’t coming back for hours. That’d work too.”
Cindy was even more perfect in person. I could imagine her picture on Instagram, with the caption, heartbreakingly fragile. She looked as though a strong puff of wind would knock her over. It was laughable that I reminded Jas of his ex.
I wanted to hate her. To resent the way she’d fucked him over, but it was hard. She greeted me with a wobbly smile, and looked genuinely interested when Holly introduced me as Caitlin Mortimer, the most imaginative cake baker in the region.
“Caitlin’s Cakes?” Cindy’s voice was low and husky. Of course it would be. No squeaky voice would befall this vision of loveliness. I wanted to melt into the carpet and apologize for my very existence. “You do those lovely cupcake mountains. I’ve seen them at parties.”
Seen them, not eaten them. She probably felt full after a single lettuce leaf. I wanted to slap myself for my bitchiness, and I groped for something polite to say. “That’s right. It’s one of my specialties.”
“Jas is still in town, we think.” Holly spoke brightly. “He spent the night at Caitlin’s.”
Cindy’s smile disappeared. She widened her eyes and stared at me. “Are you and Jassy together?”
“God no.” My heart thumped so hard, they could probably both hear it. “Just friends. You know. There was a slip on the highway. He needed somewhere to stay.” So he fell into my bed. “And he said he was coming back later.”
“I haven’t heard him mention you before.” A hint of steel underpinned the huskiness.
“We only met a few days ago.” They were still on speaking terms, then.
She sharpened her gaze, and I felt like an insect under a microscope. “I see.”
What did she see? I wanted to ask, but my need to escape was greater. “I have to go.” I turned on my heel, ready to flee, as the door opened and Jasper walked in.