Clover unlocked the door to ‘Four-Leaf Clover’ and was delightfully surprised. The café was spotless and in order. The tables were scrubbed, chairs in their place at the tables, the counter clean and neat. She wandered down the aisle. It was more than a little strange knowing she’d taken an entire day out of its life. She felt like a mother, picking her child up from school on their first day. The child was the same, but the mother didn’t know what had gone on during the day. It was a little dissociative, and something she was totally unused to feeling.
She’d never taken a day off from anything. A day was a long time when you were used to endlessly running around. She was as refreshed as though she’d been on a two week holiday. Most of that she put down to Liam.
And the way her feelings were developing.
She stepped into the kitchen, absently putting her bag beneath the counter. The coffee cups had been washed and stacked on the shelf, the cutlery lay in neat lines in their boxes. The dry food containers had been wiped clean and were lined up on the shelf. She would have to remember to thank Liam’s chef and his wife personally.
She checked the food supplies, running her eyes around the little kitchen. They must have had a busy day yesterday and still had been able to clean the café to her high standard.
She sighed, taking a moment to enjoy the quiet and the anticipation of the day ahead. Liam said he would come in for lunch, after his morning meeting. She was going to cook him her renowned lasagna, make a big lot up and serve it as the lunch special of the day. A tingle of effervescent excitement bubbled in her belly and she stepped light-footed around the kitchen gathering her items.
‘And what did you get up to yesterday?’ Holly stepped into the kitchen, sending Clover a questioning gaze.
Clover decided to become very interested mixing the egg and flour together to work the pasta. ‘Was it busy?’
‘That wasn’t the answer I was expecting.’ Holly leant against the work bench, crossing her arms over her chest. Clover felt the heat of her gaze. ‘Did Liam catch up with you when you left the restaurant? We didn’t hear from you. Either of you. All night. And all day.’
‘Hmmm hmmm.’ Clover measured out the water.
‘And there was a chef I didn’t know who worked here yesterday. And his wife. Both very nice. Told me Liam had arranged for them to come in.’
‘Oh, yes. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you personally,’ Clover said.
‘Liam wasn’t at his work yesterday either.’
Clover looked at Holly, hoping she looked innocent. ‘Wasn’t he?’
Holly pursed her lips. ‘You don’t do that look well. Spit it out, girl.’
Clover sighed. Who was she kidding? Holly missed nothing. She’d never been able to get anything past her, even when they were kids. ‘All right. First raisin toast and coffee, and then I’ll tell you everything you want to know.’ Besides, Holly was a fantastic moral barometer. If there was anything to pick up, she’d see it instantly.
* * *
‘That’s fantastic news. Well, not about your mum, but I knew there was something between you and Liam.’ Holly reached over the table and squeezed Clover’s hand.
‘Do you think so?’
‘Yes, I think so! I saw it the first day. The way you looked at him, and the way he looked at you back and didn’t take any of your nonsense. I knew you’d be good for each other.’
‘What do you mean, “take my nonsense”?’
Holly paused. ‘Sometimes you can be a bit…prickly.’
‘Prickly! I think most of the time I’m perfectly reasonable,’ Clover said.
Holly skimmed the froth off the top of her cappuccino. ‘How’s your mum?’
Clover twirled the warm coffee cup. ‘Okay, I think. The fall was pretty bad. If Liam hadn’t been there, I don’t think I would have been able to lift the chair off her.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m going to have to get help. Or get her in some place where she’ll be safe. She shouldn’t be left alone any more. I’ll speak to the doctors. Hopefully they’ll know what I can do.’
‘You’ve done your best, Clov.’
‘But…is it good enough? If I’d been at home, she wouldn’t have fallen. Instead I was out having…’ She stopped short at ‘fun’.
‘Don’t beat yourself up. You went out for two hours. You’re allowed to do that. Have a life. You are entitled to enjoy yourself. Everyone needs a break, including you.’
Clover gave her a weak smile. ‘I just took mine at the wrong time.’
‘How could you have known she would have fallen on that night, at that time?’
‘That’s the point. She could do herself harm at any time. She needs someone around her all day now. I feel like I’ve failed her.’
‘But…how much more can you do?’
‘I don’t know. At least the house is being fixed. That should make it safer in the meantime.’
‘You’re working at night on it?
Clover paused. ‘Liam’s helping me. I’m glad. At least Mum can come home to a house with working utilities.’
A smile lit Holly’s face. ‘I knew he was good for you.’
‘Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m paying him back. Every cent.’ It would be fantastic if Gloria could come back to a fully functioning house. Thanks to Liam’s tradesmen, it looked like she could.
‘It’s okay to accept a present, you know.’
‘A present is a bottle of wine, not a house full of tradesmen re-doing the plumbing.’
‘But did you stop and think that he wants to help you. That doing this for you makes him feel good?’
Clover stared at Holly wordlessly. Heat rose up her throat. ‘I’m not a charity case. You know I’m not.’
Holly leant across the table. ‘No-one said you were. I’m your friend. I’ve known you and your parents a long time. I know what you’ve been through. I understand that you feel you have to do it all. But Liam’s one of the good ones and he’s holding out a helping hand to you. I’m not talking just about fixing plumbing. Just make sure you’re not too busy to recognise help with the intention in which it’s given.’
The bell from the door tinkled. The local junk mail delivery man poked his head through the door and dropped a bunch of catalogues on the bench. He gave a friendly wave and headed to his next stop.
Clover picked up the catalogues and shuffled through them. A familiar face caught her eye on the front of the crumpled page of the local paper. Feeling her heart pick up its rate, she dropped the catalogues on the nearest table and unfolded the paper. Then her heart lurched, dead in its tracks.
‘Liam,’ she whispered.
Frowning, Holly looked over her shoulder and gasped.
‘What were you just saying?’ Clover said. Her voice was a bare rasp.
‘I couldn’t be wrong, but…’ Holly’s voice trailed out. Either she stopped talking or the ringing in Clovers ears grew to a shriek as she read.
Big Business shares nothing with the food that feeds only those that can pay.
This week Upper Crust Bakeries pushed through a business mandate to provide locks to its bins to make sure that their day-old bread cannot be taken from them. This means that their day-old bread will be sent to the local rubbish tip. Vice President, Liam Sinclair, yesterday said, ‘We need to make sure all of the food we produce is of the highest quality. We bake our bread to the latest industrial standards and regulations and serve them to our customers in a hygienic environment. We can’t be held responsible for bread that is thrown away after the business day that might be contaminated from germs in rubbish bins.’
This mandate was quickly passed through the Upper Crust business after headlines revealed the homeless taking bread from the bins from various Upper Crust Bakeries. When asked why this was such an issue, Mr Sinclair responded, ‘We don’t go out of our way to poison people. While we maintain our clean baking environment, we are not going to be held responsible for that of our bins. We do not want to be responsible for a case of potentially lethal food poisoning from our product in an environment that is out of our control.’
Locks will be issued this week, and the food will be left for the rubbish tip. Upper Crust Bakeries will be siding with new food regulations for all businesses generating food to install locks on their bins.
Wrong. It was all wrong. Liam couldn’t have said those things. He just couldn’t. He knew how she felt, knew what she was about. Knew what had happened to her. Those things that she could never forget. A sliver of ice stabbed her gut as nausea rose up her throat. Clover collapsed into the nearest chair, her mind and body numb. The paper dropped to the table from nerveless fingers.
‘It doesn’t sound like him,’ Holly said. ‘It can’t be true.’
Clover couldn’t answer. The words were stuck half way in her throat. She stared at her café, but all she saw were images of Liam making love to her, all she felt was the memory of his hands on her, his mouth on her mouth, on her body and how wonderful the world seemed just a few short hours ago. How everything seemed to have changed for her, all because of the caring of a man she trusted. Betrayal tightened a noose around her neck.
As wonderful as the world seemed then, it was now as bleak. She should have known better. How goddammed stupid could she be? She sunk her head into bunched fists. Holly spoke to her but the words were blurred. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
No more than her father, but just in a different way. How long was she going to pay for this mistake? Months. Years.
The door tinkled and four people walked through the door, loosening scarves and taking off their jackets. Clover rose from the table.
Holly took Clover’s hand. ‘Stay there. I’ll take care of them.’ Her voice was low, so that the customers couldn’t hear.
She faced Holly, but her eyes didn’t seem to be able to focus. She blinked back the tears that heated her eyes and managed a thin smile. ‘It’s no problem. You get their order and I’ll get everything prepared.’
‘Why don’t you just go over and talk to him?’
She couldn’t face him knowing what they’d done all night, and all the while what he was doing behind her back. Needed time to think. Her smile thinned to a grimace. ‘Let’s just get on with the breakfast crowd.’
She turned into the kitchen before Holly could say anything to her. She absorbed the familiar smells of the little kitchen, moved to familiar motions, lost herself in the ritual of the morning. She didn’t have time to mull over the news article. Didn’t have to feel the full impact of it. Leave that for tonight when she was alone in her own space.
Didn’t have to face the reality that she had been used.
The past day and night had been mind-blowing. In his arms she’d found the space she needed to make the world and her worries fade away. She felt cherished. Special. It was an exceptional place to be. What a fool she was to think it might be more than one night.
Time hung heavy. Stretched into infinity, stretching her nerves. Each second was an hour. She looked at the clock to see it was barely eight in the morning. Clover cracked an egg and threw it into the bin. Yolk streamed over the floor. She watched it ooze across the tiles. Desolation had turned to biting anger.
It was no use taking it out on eggs, she needed to find the object of it before she lost her mind. She looked out of the front window. Upper Crust looked busy inside. Where there was movement, there would be Liam.
‘I’m just going across the road,’ Clover tossed over her shoulder.
‘Calm down, Clover. Let him talk first,’ Holly said. The door closed behind her, and she didn’t hear the rest.
She entered Upper Crust and was greeted with a chorus of hellos from the tradesmen, most of whom had come in for morning tea and lunch. She managed a tight smile at them. As she saw Liam, her smile faded. He was bent over a board that was leaning against the wall, uncovering the plastic from the front. As though sensing her, Liam turned. As he saw her a smile lit his face and her gut lurched.
His smile turned lopsided. He looked so sexy, standing there in his business suit. The cut accentuating the leanness of his hips, and the broad line of his shoulders. But what consumed her was the light in his eyes that promised her the world.
She’d thought nothing would break through her anger. She straightened her spine. Keep the anger. Keep it inside. He’s no better than the men who did what they did to her father. It was all just business to them. She was nothing but a pawn.
She noted the confusion on his face as she strode towards him. His smile slipped and a heavy heat enclosed her throat and tightened her chest. He walked over to her. She hadn’t realised she’d stopped walking and was standing in the middle of the shop. He came close, his spicy-male smell enveloped her. She swallowed hard, keeping her eyes on the dip in his neck where his collar was open.
‘Clover, what’s the matter?’
He touched her upper arms and she shrugged them off. Don’t think about how good his hands feel. She handed him the paper so that he had to see the front article.
‘This is the matter.’ She waited a moment for him to take in the article, then, ‘How could you? You told me you didn’t like that. You understood me. How I hate what locking bins means. You said you’d…’
She stopped talking and frowned. Just when had he said those things to her? Her mind raced, thinking. She couldn’t remember that he’d said anything at all. He’d listened, sure, said he didn’t like these new regulations, told her it was out of his hands, but he’d never said he was going to fight against them. She gasped and horror dawned. She started backing away.
Liam frowned. She ignored the hurt and confusion on his face, putting her arms around her, trying to ward off the chill.
‘I don’t know anything about this article. And I can promise this reporter has never interviewed me.’
Clover opened her mouth to speak, but only a squeak came out. She so wanted to believe him, but her mind was crowded with all the things that had happened to both her and her father. She couldn’t be so naïve. It was time to learn her lesson.
‘How can I believe you?’
He moved to embrace her, but she stepped back again. His hands fell to his sides and all that was left was a gaping wound between them.
‘I swear I didn’t even speak to this reporter. I had no idea this was going to be printed.’
‘Do you know how that sounds to me? How else would he have gotten that information?’
‘I don’t know. But I’ll find out. Believe me, Clover. I would never do that to you.’
Clover dropped her arms from around her. She looked hopefully into his eyes. There was nothing to read but honesty. The same honesty she’d seen last night. Maybe everything was just getting to her. Maybe she should do what Holly suggested and take him at his word. She sighed and the spinning anger simply drained. She managed a weak smile. ‘I…I’m sorry Liam.’
He looked so relieved that her smile brightened. She stepped towards him and he caught her in his arms. She placed her head against his chest, drinking in his smell, his body warmth, feeling his heart thumping against her ear.
‘I’ll work this out. Just know I would never do anything to harm you. Especially not like this.’ He dropped the paper into a bin.
She opened eyes she never knew had closed. She was facing the sign he’d been opening when she’d barged in. She took a moment to read. There was something wrong, something that made her slip from him and pull the rest of the plastic away.
‘I thought…that…you were just doing bakery items,’ Clover whispered. It was hard to get her voice to be anything louder. The word ‘fool’ screamed at her inside her head. She looked disbelievingly at Liam. She had been ready to apologise.
‘Clover, you have to believe me. I don’t know why there’s been a change.’
Clover read the items for the second time.
‘I’ve heard those words before.’ As she gestured towards the newspaper in the bin. ‘These are what I make. Exactly. The muffins. The cakes. This is what I serve in my café. How can you explain that?’
‘This is going to sound like an excuse, but I have no idea why they’re there, or how they got on there.’
‘The pricing is cheaper, too.’ Clover listed eight items that had been added to the menu, over and above what Upper Crust was known for baking. They were an exact copy, down to the names she had them written as in her menu.
‘I didn’t pass the artwork on these signs.’
‘Who did?’ Clover put her hands to her forehead. This couldn’t be happening. This was a nightmare. The paper, the sign. She turned from the sign, not able to look at it.
‘Clover…’ Liam rested his hands on her shoulders. The weight was too much, his touch too intimate. Too knowing. Suddenly it was stifling.
She shrugged his hands off, paced away from him. ‘Is this what you had your tradesmen come into my café for?’
His hands dropped to his sides. His forehead creased. ‘Don’t say it.’
‘You know what my situation is. I was ready to believe you about the article — and then this?’ She gestured at the sign.
‘You’re not thinking straight.’ His eyes took on a hardened glow. He stepped towards her, thought better and retreated.
‘Is this why you made love to me? Payment…for this?’ The shop was stifling, the air too hot. The skin of her neck and cheeks prickled with a sticky heat.
‘That’s not fair, Clover. You’re not listening to me. This can be changed. And it will. I need to know why it’s been done and who gave permission for it to be done. The article and the sign.’
‘You’re the boss. You sign off on everything.’ She gasped. ‘The chef yesterday. He had access to all my recipes. My notes.’ She blinked hot unshed tears from her eyes. She couldn’t stand the thought that popped into her mind. She thought she was lucky, that she had found someone who wanted to be with her, despite all her financial baggage and responsibilities. She had been taken advantage of. She had thought that yesterday had been an oasis, a sanctuary from her everyday life, but all it had been was a chance to take the only thing she had to give. Her recipes. Her food. Her life. She’d finally opened herself up to believe that someone would love her enough to overlook everything her life brought with her, only to find out it had been a lie.
‘I…I’ve got to go.’ She couldn’t bear to look at him, try and decipher the confused expression on his face. Ignored the hurt she read there because it only made her hurt so much more. She strode through the shop into the blinding daylight. Then she was at the door to ‘Four-Leaf Clover’ with no recollection of how she got there. She pushed the door open, stumbling into the shop, dragging the breath back into her lungs.
‘There she is! I’ve been waiting for you. Nice muffins, by the way. I’m expecting them to be on the house, given our little agreement.’
The door swung shut behind her, her gaze settling on the only man sitting at a table in her beautiful cafe. ‘Lenny.’