A Little Love (35 page)

Guy smiled at her, then jumped forward, flapping his arms. ‘No! No! No!’ He waved at a young girl who was replenishing the depleted macaroons on a three-tiered silver platter. ‘Never, ever place the cerise next to that lavender colour. That,
ma chérie
, is the food equivalent of wearing glitter or sparkles before eight p.m. – a complete no-no, as well as social suicide. You must break them up with pistachio green or pale lemon! Can you see the difference?’ His fingers worked quickly, creating an artful stack of colour-coordinated perfection. ‘We want to make a subtle rainbow that grabs the eye and tempts the tastebuds.’ His hand rolled in the air as if giving a royal wave. ‘
Mon Dieu
, if I allowed that kind of colour clash, I would be the laughing stock of London… and wherever this place is!’

Dear, dear Guy, your secret’s safe with me.

‘I wonder what Trudy would have made of all this?’ Milly said as she approached her cousin.

Pru giggled and imagined Trudy standing on the terrace with her cigarette holder between her fingers, sizing up the other guests and offering a cutting commentary on all of them. ‘She’d have hated it.’

Milly laughed too. ‘Yes she would. She’d have left as soon as possible, sloping off and hoping you hadn’t noticed. And she would have known just where to slope.’ She winked.

‘That she would.’

‘Ooh good, he’s alone!’ Pru watched as Milly sped across the terrace and plonked herself down next to Christopher. ‘I want a word with you.’

‘Oh God, not another word!’ His eyes twinkled at her. ‘The last time you felt the need to reveal your innermost thoughts to me, it caused a whole lot of bother.’

‘I can see that,’ said Milly as she looked around the terrace, at friends, family and colleagues dancing under the stars with glasses of champagne in their hands. ‘I wanted to say, Chris, that because Pru loves you, we all love you – that’s how we work.’

‘Thank you, Mills.’ He patted her arm.

‘But if you ever hurt her, you’ll need more than a few stitches in your shin.’ She winked and then spied someone else she wanted a word with.

Meg sat down next to Pru and sipped her champagne. ‘You look amazing, Pru. It’s been the loveliest wedding.’

‘It really has.’

‘I’ve been thinking. I loved Bill, I really did.’ She blinked away the slight sparkle of tears in her eyes. ‘But he can’t of been “the one”, can he? Because if he was, he’d have been perfect for me and he certainly wouldn’t have been seeing anyone else, lying to me or hiding me away. I’d have been enough for him, wouldn’t I?’

‘I think you are very smart to take that on board. And talking of you being very smart, Mills and I want to give you a bit of a promotion – and a rise, of course. I might be around a bit less, but Mills will be on hand to help you in any way she can. Besides, I think I’ve given that place enough of my life. I won’t abandon Plum’s and I’ll always love it, but it’s time for a new broom.’

Meg clapped her hands together. ‘I don’t believe it! Really? I’ve spent hours drawing up plans. I was going to present them to you – my ideas for world domination. I want there to be a Plum Patisserie in every capital city!’

‘You’ll do it, girl. You can do anything if you put your mind to it. I’m proof of that.’

‘I know you’re not my relative and I haven’t been around that long in the scheme of things, but I really love you, Pru.’

‘The feeling, Meg, is entirely mutual.’

Chris sought out his wife. ‘I think your cousin just threatened to kneecap me if I put a foot wrong.’

‘Well, you are well advised not to mess with us tough East End birds. Consider yourself warned, Sir Christopher.’

The delicate sound of a spoon hitting the side of a crystal glass reverberated around the terrace of the Victoria Inn and the chatter hushed to a whisper.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome on to the dance floor, your bride and groom!’ Liam announced.

Thunderous clapping rang out. Lucas yelled in response; he didn’t like the big noise one bit. Meg rocked him from side to side before handing him over to Isabel, who had the knack of quieting him. Meg had noticed how, however much he might be bawling in the car, as soon as Isabel hurried down the driveway at Mountfield to meet them, as was her habit, he would pipe right down. She would scoop him up and smother his face in kisses, and he would become quite calm.

‘Come to your grandma. That’s it, my darling boy.’ She kissed him and patted his back against her chest and sure enough he stopped crying.

‘I don’t know how you do that, Isabel, but I wish you’d teach me!’

Milly laughed. ‘I could do with you around at three in the morning, when Meg can’t hear him crying over her own snoring.’

‘Funny, Milly. I may snore, but at least I don’t sleepwalk in the middle of the night and eat cheese!’

‘I did that once, you daft bint!’

‘Yes, but that’s once more than normal people, you nutter.’

Isabel laughed. ‘Look, stop it, you two – Pru and Chris are going to dance.’

‘Oh, God help us!’ Milly whispered to Meg and the two of them collapsed into fits of giggles behind their hands.

Christopher put his hand on the small of Pru’s back and held her right hand in his, at an angle.

‘I can’t believe you are making me do this, Chris.’ She burrowed her face against his chest.

‘Well, if I want a first dance with my wife then I shall jolly well have one. Remember, don’t over-think it, just let me lead you.’ He twirled her round, catching her before she slipped. She giggled loudly. They tripped across the floor, laughing, pressed close together, oblivious of all who stood watching.

Meg felt a tap on her shoulder.

‘I can’t bear to see a pretty girl all alone – would you like to dance?’

She beamed into the face of the handsome chap in a suit. As they made their way to the area where people smooched and swayed, she introduced him to Pru. ‘Have you met Piers Parkinson-Boater?’

Pru nodded. ‘Yes, I think I might have, once or twice.’ She smiled at him, remembering how sweet he had been to her once before, and watched as Meg slipped into his arms quite naturally, almost as if that was where she belonged.

Christopher nodded at Meg and Piers, who were laughing as they waltzed across the floor. ‘Looks like things are moving forward, Pru.’

She reached up and kissed him. ‘Actually, Chris, I think it’s better than that, I’d say they had reached neutral.’

The white-painted shutters of the rented apartment were thrown open to reveal the bright blue Salcombe morning. The gauzy curtain panels arched in the early breeze as the gulls screeched their morning greeting. Beyond their window and the ornately scrolled iron balcony they could see nothing but the white tips of the waves, breaking in the estuary, the masts and rigging of boats bobbing around like impatient pets, waiting attention and the patchwork shades of green on the cliff top hills beyond. Even at this early hour, the sun was giving off warmth and there was the distant ring of bells from the Holy Trinity church. He reached out and traced his finger over her shoulder.

‘It’s like looking at a painting isn’t it?’

‘It is. It’s beautiful and so peaceful. I think I rather like this life.’

‘Me too, but do you know the very best thing?’

Pru shook her head and sank further into the downy pillow.

‘It’s knowing that I get to wake up with you every morning for the rest of my days. And no matter what the day or night brings, that prospect fills me with unimaginable joy.’

She grinned up at him. ‘You’re an old softie.’

‘Less of the “old” please; my joints don’t need any reminding.’ He rubbed at his elbow, which had a nasty habit of locking in the morning.

‘This is really real, isn’t it?’ Her voice was a whisper.

‘Yes, this is really real.’

‘I shan’t ever forget a single detail of yesterday, not ever. It was the most magical thing I’ve experienced. I keep replaying snippets in my head.’

‘I’m so glad, I wanted it to be perfect for you.’

‘It was, and to see everyone together, dancing, laughing, coming together for us,’ Pru shook her head, ‘it feels like a dream. I didn’t know I could feel like this.’

‘Me neither.’ He laughed. ‘To find you now is like being given an incredible parting gift for my twilight years. I would of course have liked to have met you when I was twenty, virile and handsome.’

‘Okay, so you’re not twenty, but two out of three ain’t bad!’ She kissed his arm and ran her fingers over his chin, which was peppered with grey whiskers.

‘Ha! In all seriousness, you were worth waiting for. I think I’ve definitely saved my best years till last.’

‘Thank you for loving me.’ She beamed.

He gathered her against his chest. ‘It is my absolute pleasure.’

‘We should look at fishing rods while we are here, there’s a shop on Fore Street.’

‘Fishing rods?’ he asked.

‘Well that’s the plan, isn’t it? Aren’t we going to potter about in Salcombe, buy a little boat and go fishing in the afternoons and then cook your catch for our supper? Then in the winter, warm our feet in front of a log fire and drink red wine until we fall asleep?’

‘That sounds perfect, Mrs Heritage.’

Pru squealed and wriggled down the bed. She looked at the thin gold band that sat on the third finger of her left hand, a simple piece of jewellery that was so much more than the sum of its parts; a symbol of love and commitment, given to her by a man that wanted her by his side. ‘Mrs Christopher Heritage! It doesn’t have quite the same ring as Pru Plum!’

‘You’ll always be Pru Plum.’

‘Yes.’ Pru smiled. ‘I will, won’t I?’

Christopher raised her hand and kissed her palm.

Their bedroom door opened without warning and in bustled Milly, wearing her tiger onesie and apparently unconcerned that it was the early hours of their honeymoon morning.

‘Jesus Christ! I’ve been all over this bloody place and there’s not a bakery open anywhere. There are several people watering hanging baskets, fetching newspapers and walking little dogs, but not a loaf to be had. Luckily, I brought a packet of digestives with me, so who’s for a cuppa?’

‘Mills, we are having a lie-in. We are on our honeymoon, you silly moo!’

Milly backed from the room. ‘All right, all right! I was only offering, daft cow.’

Ladies, here is a foolproof recipe for gingerbread men (and women). It should make about a dozen. You will need:

Ingredients

350g plain flour

1 tsp bicarbonate of soda

2 tsp ground ginger

1 tsp ground cinnamon

Pinch of nutmeg (optional)

125g butter

175g light soft brown sugar

1 egg

4 tbsp golden syrup

For decoration (the best bit!)

Icing for writing – shop-bought tubes are easiest, or you can make your own by blending 4tbsps of icing sugar with just enough water to get a smooth paste, then spooning the mix into a small piping bag.

Cake decorations such as sweetie buttons, sparkles, jelly drops – you get the idea!

Preparation method

•  Preheat the oven to 180C/350F/Gas mark 4 and prepare two baking trays with greaseproof paper.

•  Sift the flour and the bicarbonate of soda into a food processor bowl, along with the ginger, cinnamon and nutmeg (if used). Add the butter and set the food processor to a gentle whir until the mixture looks like fat breadcrumbs. Mix in the sugar (with fingers or a spoon).

•  In another bowl, use a fork to beat the egg and the golden syrup together. Add this to the flour mixture and use the food processor to pulse everything into a clump of dough.

•  Knead the dough into a smooth ball, then wrap it in clingfilm and put it in the fridge for 15 minutes.

•  Lightly flour the work surface and roll out the dough to a thickness of about 0.5cm.

•  Press your cake cutters firmly on to the dough to make gingerbread men, stars, Christmas trees or whatever shapes take your fancy. Use a spatula to transfer them on to the baking trays, making sure they have sufficient space around them to grow.

•  Bake the shapes for 12 to 15 minutes, until they’re a beautiful pale golden-brown. Leave them on the trays for 10 minutes, then ease them off the greaseproof paper and on to wire racks to cool, being extra careful not to drop them!

•  Once your shapes have cooled, use the writing icing and cake decorations to make them into your own personal artworks – go as crazy as you like!

Okay, that’s the hard work over. Now you get to make yourself a warm drink in your favourite mug, sit in your comfiest chair and sample your gingerbread. Go on, treat yourself. Why? Because everyone deserves a little love!

Happy baking.

Pru Plum x

We hope you enjoyed this book.

If you haven’t already read the other stories in Amanda Prowse’s gripping
No Greater Love
sequence, read on or click the links below for previews of

Poppy Day

What Have I Done?

and

Clover’s Child

Or

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