The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club (14 page)

‘How do you think it'll turn out?' I asked. ‘I mean, it
looks
OK, but it's how it tastes.'

I flipped it over with the fish slice and my heart jumped when I saw the gorgeous golden-brown colour.

‘Well, we don't have long to find out,' Noah replied. ‘Just another couple of minutes until it's done.'

He kept watch over it until he decided it was ready, then used the fish slice to move it onto the plate.

‘What do you think of that then?'

I stared down at it, scarcely able to believe it was real. We had made an
actual
pancake that at least looked edible!

‘I… We did it! Look at it, it's not burnt to a crisp or a lumpy mess! It's a real bloody pancake!'

‘Damn right it's a real bloody pancake!' A bright smile lit up Noah's face and he turned to high-five me. ‘We've cracked it, Emily!'

I returned his high-five, a feeling of pride soaring through my veins. I couldn't believe I felt so happy about mixing flour, sugar, milk and eggs together into a batter and cooking it, but I did. At that moment, everything else I'd achieved – five A grades in my Higher exams, getting a first in my business degree at Strathclyde, landing my internship at Walter Marshall – all paled into insignificance. Making my first, and hopefully not last, pancake was my proudest moment.

‘Let's see how it tastes, eh?' Noah went to grab forks and I sat down at the table, hardly able to contain my excitement.

‘Right, let's see how we've done, shall we?' he said when he joined me at the table. ‘Bon appetit!'

He cut it in half and let me have the plate for mine. We each took a bite and let out moans of pleasure as the taste hit our tongues. It was just a plain pancake, but after our various fruitless efforts, it tasted like heaven.

‘How good is that?' I hurriedly took another bite, afraid it would disappear if I didn't wolf it down as quickly as possible. ‘The guests are going to love these!'

‘So will the breakfast club. That was a great idea you had, by the way. I've had a think about it and I reckon it could really work. We'll have to wait until we've got a bank of recipes, but it'll be nice to do something for the people who live here. We could even branch into cooking demonstrations; get a few local chefs in to teach their signature dishes. What do you think?'

I nodded and mumbled an incoherent reply as I tucked into my pancake. The sensation brought my taste buds to life; it was such a change from blended-up kale and spinach.

Noah watched me with a curious blend of fascination and curiosity in his eyes.

‘Look at you; you're like a kid at Christmas! Anyone would think you'd never had a pancake before.'

I chuckled as I finished off my half. ‘Course I've had pancakes before! Not recently, but I've had them. They were just never this good, that's all.'

‘Go on then, when was the last time you had one?' Noah's face still bore the same bright smile as when we'd discovered our efforts had finally paid off. He looked blissfully happy, like he was floating high above the clouds and nothing could bring him down. Funny what getting a pancake right could do.

‘God, now you're asking. Must be over ten years ago, at least. Mum wasn't big on bringing cakes and biscuits into the house. My nickname at school was the Carrot Stick Kid!'

Noah let out a huge, rippling belly laugh, just like he had the day I'd exploded the eggs in the microwave. It was such a happy sound and such a contrast to his snarling and sarcastic comments.

‘You know, I'm starting to see why you're so tightly wound; anyone would be with a name like the Carrot Stick Kid!'

I gave him a playful tap on the arm. ‘Hey, less of your lip or I'll make you eat that lumpy gunk we made earlier!'

Noah laughed then sank back into his chair with a contented sigh. ‘Who'd have thought it, eh? We're actually managing to get on. And having a laugh into the bargain!'

‘Not me, that's for sure! I thought I'd end up running you over with Cilla the Clio or something.'

‘I really didn't make it easy for you, did I?'

‘No, you bloody didn't!'

He pursed his lips and looked down at his jeans. Much as I didn't want to admit it, he looked cutely remorseful. He looked up at me again and I felt a jolt through my body. The whole atmosphere between us shifted and the air became charged with tension. He wasn't just looking at me now; he was
really
looking at me.

‘Listen, I… I still owe you an explanation about that nasty shock I had the other day. Remember, I promised to tell you before we got drunk and… well, you know what happened after that.'

His cheeks turned crimson and he looked away from me for a moment.

‘What was it?' I asked in the gentlest voice I could. ‘Is everything OK?'

‘My mum got in touch with me. I haven't heard from her for years and it threw me off a bit. She wasn't the best mum, to be honest; she drank a lot and left me with whoever was available so she could go off for weeks at a time with her friends. When she
was
there, she wasn't that great either. I was taken into care when I was about seven and only saw her once every few months after that. One of the only things she ever did right was bring me here for holidays. We'd always stay at Sunflower Cottage, which is how Rose came into our lives. She'd look after me while Mum went off on her famous benders. As I got older, we kept in touch and, when she had a fall, I jumped at the chance to move here. She always worries I did it for her, and I guess I did, but it was also because I've never been happier anywhere else. Rose has been more of a mum to me than my real mum. She claims she's got her act together and wants to meet up so we can “start again”.'

My first instinct was to place my hand over his. The warm skin beneath mine made goosebumps rise on my arms, but I didn't want to pull my hand away.

‘And how did that make you feel?' I asked.

Oh God, Emily, you sound like a bloody therapist! Next you'll be asking him about his dreams or something.

He shrugged and blew air out through his cheeks. ‘I didn't know
how
to feel, to be honest. I haven't heard from her for so long and now, all of a sudden, she fancies playing the doting mother! She was always good at making big promises, but when it came to delivering them she wasn't up to it. Part of me thinks I should just leave it; I've lived most of my life without her and she'll probably end up being a disappointment as usual. But then the other part of me thinks I should go. We're both older and hopefully a little bit wiser now. Maybe it'll be different this time… What do you think? You're an intelligent, level-headed kind of woman. What would you do if you were me?'

I couldn't help but draw comparisons to my own family dilemma. It was quite odd that both of us were so different, yet found ourselves facing the same situation.

‘If I were you…' I began, choosing my words carefully, ‘I'd give her a chance. She might've made mistakes, but she's still your mum. Maybe she really has changed and wants to try and make amends. If she screws up this time, at least you'll be able to walk away knowing you gave her a fair shot.'

He nodded slowly, pursing his lips. ‘You're right. If I don't then I'll always wonder if she's really changed or if it was just another one of her acts.'

‘I…' The words caught in my throat as I tried to say them. ‘I could come with you if you want? You know, for moral support. If you like, that is; you might want to go on your own or—'

I froze as I felt his hand squeeze mine. It was such an unexpected gesture that it stopped my waffling in its tracks. No mean feat, considering how good at waffling I seemed to be.

‘I'd like that, Emily.' His deep, rumbling voice had lost all of its hard edges and he now sounded kind and gentle. He looked down at our touching hands and began to tenderly stroke mine. ‘Anyway, now that I've told you about my nasty shock, you can tell me what was bothering you the other day.'

He stared intently at me, waiting for my answer while he continued to stroke my hand. The unexpectedly intimate moments had made my brain go fuzzy and scattered my usually neat and ordered thoughts.

‘Oh…' I stared down at his hand on top of mine then snapped my gaze back to his enchanting brown eyes. ‘It was nothing, just work stuff. It's all been sorted now.'

Liar, liar, trouser suit on fire.

‘Can I ask you a question?'

I swallowed hard, unsure of what to expect. My heart began to hammer against my ribcage and my palms became slick with sweat.

‘Yeah, of course you can. What is it?'

The whole moment was on a knife-edge, with two possible scenarios that could play out. Each would take us down very different paths, neither of which I was sure I was ready for…

‘Why is your car called Cilla?'

The tension between us diffused as I burst into a fit of helpless giggles. Tears streamed down my face and I almost fell off my seat. Noah joined in, a little hesitant at first like he wasn't sure what he'd said to cause such amusement.

‘Of all the questions you could've asked me,' I said through laughter fits. ‘Why did you ask me that?!'

‘Because I've never met anyone with a car called Cilla before!'

A familiar voice stopped our laughter in its tracks. ‘I hope all this noise means you've managed to produce a perfect pancake!'

Diane stood in the doorway, arms folded like a teacher who'd just caught two naughty pupils doing something they shouldn't.

Noah picked up the remainder of his half and handed it to her. ‘Why don't you see for yourself?'

She took a bite and at first we couldn't tell what she thought of it. But the beaming smile on her face soon gave her away.

‘By George, I think you've got it!'

*

After the meeting was over, I went up to my room, my head full of ideas for our upcoming venture. It had been a long time since something had fired up the passion inside me and inspired me so much. I caught sight of my laptop waiting patiently for me on my bed and imagined the mountain of work I had to catch up on: the unread emails, the questions from prospective and existing clients and Paul's various meltdowns over trivial problems. I waited for the urge to come, the urge to dive into my work and find sanctuary away from the world.

It didn't.

Instead, I happily slid my laptop under my bed with a contented sigh. I had the feeling I wouldn't need to escape into my work for quite a while.

Chapter 15

Pancakes turned out to be just the beginning of our culinary adventures. Under Diane's expert guidance, Noah and I became experts in cooking all sorts of delightful breakfasts. By the end of my first week in Luna Bay, we could cook Noah's New Yorker breakfast, eggs Benedict and even kedgeree. Despite my initial reluctance to include it on our menu, I instantly fell in love with it on my first forkful.

‘It's official,' I said, piling the remainder onto my fork. ‘I'm a convert to breakfasts! Thanks for teaching us, Diane. You've been brilliant.'

She wiped her hands on a towel and came over to join me at the table as Noah cooked. ‘You've both done really well, I must admit. There have been a few bumps along the way, but I think you're ready to start your breakfast club!' She reached over and patted my hand. ‘I'm so proud of you, Emily. You've gone from someone who exploded eggs in a microwave to making food that people might actually enjoy!'

She winked at me before asking Noah how he was getting on with his ‘surprise'.

‘It's nearly ready,' he said over his shoulder. ‘Be prepared for the best breakfast you've ever tasted in your life. Both of you, close your eyes.'

We did as we were told and put our hands over our eyes. The smells wafting over from the oven made my mouth water. I couldn't remember the last time I'd yearned for one of my green smoothies. Since I'd arrived in Luna Bay, I'd sampled so many new flavours and textures that blended-up kale and celery just didn't seem appetising anymore. As Noah clattered around just a few feet away, I couldn't resist stealing the odd glance around to see what he was doing. His wiry frame moved expertly around the little kitchen, reaching for ingredients and throwing them here, there and everywhere. He had the grace and beauty of a dancer; I couldn't help but be captivated by him.

‘You do know I know you're looking round?' he said with a chuckle. ‘It'll be ready in a few minutes, promise.'

True to his word, he came over and put plates in front of me and Diane. On them were two of the most delicious-looking pancakes I'd ever seen, topped with a sauce made from what looked like melted giant chocolate buttons. The smell circled my heart and I found myself excited to dig into them.

‘
Et voila
! What do you think of that then?' He leaned on the table and stared at me, trying to gauge my reaction.

‘I think… I think they look bloody fantastic, if I'm honest!' I picked up my cutlery and cut myself a piece before popping it into my mouth. ‘Wow, they taste as good as they look too!'

‘A massive improvement on your earlier efforts,' Diane agreed between mouthfuls.

Noah smiled brightly and watched me as I gobbled up the rest at lightning speed. ‘I take it you enjoyed them then?' he said with a small chuckle. ‘I was going to make you my famous full English, but thought I'd give the pancakes a go.'

‘Noah, they were amazing. Thank you; you'll have to let me return the favour tomorrow.'

He grimaced as he took the plate over to the sink. ‘Oh, I don't know about that! Haven't quite recovered from the exploding eggs incident yet.'

I giggled and swatted him playfully on the arm. ‘Oh, will you let that go already?! It could've happened to anyone!'

He joined me back at the table and our laughter slowly died away.