The Little Village Bakery: A feel good romantic comedy with plenty of cake (Honeybourne Book 1) (23 page)

But the
incident that she and Dylan carefully avoided mentioning when they were together, for fear that it would somehow sully their moments of intimacy, still hung over them. The answer he gave now would change all that. She already knew what it was; she just needed to hear it to make it real.

‘I was right. Some magic mushroom derivative. There’s no way I could even have got the old fella up in that state, let alone do what she said I did…’

‘So you didn’t have sex at all?’

Dylan gave a sheepish grin. ‘I’ve picked enough mushrooms in the fields around here as a teenager and I’ve been slipped enough acid in clubs to know that me and LSD don’t work well together when it comes to getting the old private to stand to attention.’

‘But she could have made you believe that you did?’ Millie asked doubtfully.

‘No question about it. That’s the funny thing about acid – you can be convinced of pretty much anything with very little suggestion, even though the evidence is right there in front of you. Once, I was in a graveyard with some mates. There was a hedgehog on the path and they all told me it was a skull from one of the graves. I could see it was a hedgehog but that didn’t matter, I started freaking out about the skull. The same here. All Rowena had to do was jiggle about on top of me and make the appropriate noises…’ Millie’s shudder stopped him in his tracks. ‘Hey… are you alright?’ He folded her in his arms. ‘Don’t cry.’

‘It’s just… How can you be ok with all this? She messed with your brain and you’re talking about it as if it’s nothing. And it’s all my fault; I brought her here because of what I did.’

‘We’ve talked about this,’ he replied softly. ‘Whatever you did, Michael’s death wasn’t your fault. If you’re ever going to move on… if
we’re
ever going to move forward together, you need to accept that. Michael took his own life and nobody, in the end, could have made that decision but Michael.’ He pulled away and held her in a steady gaze. ‘Deep down, you must know that?’

Millie sniffed and nodded. ‘I suppose a bit of me does. I spent so long beating myself up over it, with Rowena reinforcing my guilt, that it’s almost impossible to shake it now.’

‘But you must. Because I’m so happy about this result that, aside from the obvious, it must mean something very important.’

‘What’s that?’

‘It must mean that I love you, Millicent Hopkin.’

A
crowd
of familiar and some not so familiar faces was gathered outside the Old Bakery. After much discussion of names, in the end, the Old Bakery was how she had always thought of her home, and it seemed like as good a name as any to christen it. Not so old anymore, though, Millie reflected as she gazed up at its beautifully restored façade. Things had been tough since she had arrived here last summer with big dreams and a rather smaller bank balance, and there’d been times when she thought she would never see this day. Now, with the generous spring sun warming her back, she felt her heart would burst with pride. She had built this, along with Dylan, a testament to the love that grew stronger with every passing day. She had always had a good feeling about the bakery and about Honeybourne, right from the moment she had seen it for sale online, she just hadn’t realised that she was destined to get more than a business out of it.

The buzz of conversation and laughter lifted Millie’s spirits even further. There had been a great deal of interest and anticipation when they finally announced the opening date, but Millie had assumed that people were just being polite. Judging by the excellent turn out for their opening event, however, people were genuinely excited after all. That, or they had come for the free wine, she mused with a slight smile.

‘Is that level?’ Dylan called from the ladder where he was erecting the last stretch of coloured bunting.

Millie shaded her eyes and squinted up at him. ‘Looks great. Now come down before you break your neck.’

‘Funny…’ Dylan said as he began his descent, ‘you didn’t seem to mind so much when I was fixing your roof in the snow.’

‘You weren’t on your own then, idiot. You had Bony with you. And there was no grand opening either. Nothing puts people off buying cakes quite like a mangled body at the front door of the shop.’

‘Oh, I see…’ Dylan said, wiping his hands down his jeans. ‘That’s where the priorities are. I’m a poor second to your precious bakery.’

Millie reached up to kiss him. ‘As if. You could never be second to anything.’

‘I’ll remind you of that when Brad Pitt comes calling for you.’

Millie grinned. ‘Did you hear from Spencer? What time did he say his flight was landing?’

‘Don’t panic, he’ll be here. He said we could start without him.’

‘I don’t want to.’

Dylan nodded towards Ruth, who was sitting on a deckchair next to Rich, the pair of them sniggering like naughty children. They both already looked the worse for wear. ‘You might have to. Frank Stephenson’s famous scrumpy is a particularly potent brew this year. There’ll be nobody left standing in half an hour.’

Millie frowned. ‘Can’t you ask him to hide it for a bit? Just give everyone some nice safe wine for the time being until we can at least do the ribbon cutting?’

‘I think it might be a bit late for that. We’ll have a riot on our hands if we stop the supply of scrumpy now.’

‘Bloody hell. Can you text Spencer, find out where he is?’

‘No, I can’t. He said he’d be here and he will. Stop stressing; everything will be just fine.’

‘It’s just…’

‘I know, you’ve said it about a million times this morning. But it was my choice to sell the cottage and partner up with you. I made that decision because I have faith in you and, no matter what you say, I know you won’t let me down or cost me my inheritance.’ He gave her an impish grin. ‘Besides, how else was I going to persuade you to let me move in with you?’

Millie laughed and nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. ‘You’re so transparent.’

‘Like a sheet of Happy Shopper’s own-brand Cling Film.’

Millie felt a touch on her arm and turned to find Jasmine. ‘I wondered where you’d got to.’

‘I was trying to stop World War Three breaking out over at the hook-a-duck stall,’ Jasmine said with an exasperated sigh. ‘I just wondered if there was anything I could do to help now the kids have entered a brief truce.’

‘I don’t think so…’ Millie glanced at Dylan, who nodded agreement.

‘I think we’ve got it covered, sis.’

Jasmine blew a stray ringlet from her forehead. ‘As long as you’re sure. Any news from Spencer?’

‘Not yet, and we’re running out of time,’ Millie replied. ‘Dylan won’t text him.’

‘You text him if you want to sound like a nag,’ Dylan replied carelessly. ‘I’m just off to have a word with Frank Stephenson.’

‘Don’t you dare drink any of that scrumpy!’ Millie called after him. As Dylan left, Rich pushed himself up from his deckchair and ambled over, hands in pockets, swaying slightly.

‘Great party,’ he said with a wink at Millie.

‘I’m sure you’d think the Christmas Lectures were an illegal rave with that much high-octane cider inside you,’ Jasmine said.

At that moment, the vicar made his way over, also clutching a glass of radioactive liquid. ‘Frank’s outdone himself with this year’s brew,’ he commented cheerily.

‘That’s just what I was saying,’ Rich agreed.

‘This really is a wonderful event,’ the vicar continued to Millie. ‘I know we haven’t really had much opportunity to get to know each other, but I’d like to formally welcome you to Honeybourne. If you ever need me, my door is always open.’

‘Especially if you’re bringing pies,’ Rich cut in with a chuckle.

‘Yes, quite.’ The vicar beamed at them all. Then he turned to Rich. ‘While I’ve got you, I wanted to ask you about some help with the organ on Sunday. Mrs Potts is poorly and we have nobody to stand in…’

As they began to arrange Rich’s assistance, Jasmine took Millie to one side, watching her husband as she spoke. ‘He still thinks that little success potion you made for him is real. Do you think we should tell him?’

‘He’s been a regular Mozart over the last few months, hasn’t he?’

Jasmine nodded. ‘Like a new man.’

‘Then let him think it’s real. He’s happy and productive and you’re happy, the kids are happy…’ She winked. ‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.’

A slow smile spread over Jasmine’s face. ‘I suppose so. God help me if he ever finds out, though.’

‘Well, he won’t find out from me.’

‘As long as that brother of mine doesn’t blab.’

‘What makes you think he knows? A girl has to have her secrets.’

‘What are you two whispering about?’ Dylan wandered over, hands deep in his pockets.

‘We were just remarking on how handsome you look today,’ Millie said with a sly smile.

‘You might have been but my sister certainly wasn’t.’

Jasmine didn’t react; instead, her gaze was drawn to a spot over his shoulder.

‘Spencer’s here!’ she squeaked.

Millie and Dylan span round to see him making his way through the crowd towards them. His progress was hindered by the sheer volume of people stopping to express their delight at his return, to ask him how life was in America, wanting to know when he was coming back for good. As politely as he could he gave them the shortest answers and promised to catch them later for a proper chat. Millie and Dylan exchanged huge grins as they watched him fight his way through.

‘He’s like a celebrity. You’ll have to remember to curtsey,’ Dylan said.

‘I will,’ Millie laughed.

‘Who’s that behind him?’ Jasmine asked. ‘Wait a minute… Is he holding her hand?’

They looked again and now noticed the petite redhead following in his wake. She wasn’t local and he did seem to be leading her through the crowd by her hand.

‘Bloody hell…’ Spencer grinned as he finally made it. ‘You should have employed some bouncers.’

‘Some people are never happy, are they?’ Dylan said to Millie with a frown. ‘You invite him to the party of the century and he’s still moaning… Ungrateful bastard.’

‘I see you’re still ugly too,’ Spencer said.

And both men launched at each other in a tight embrace. Dylan clapped Spencer on the back and laughed. ‘It’s so good to see you, man. It’s been weird without you.’

Spencer’s grin widened as he pulled away. ‘You mean you’ve actually missed me?’

‘Obviously I’ve been far too busy having sex to miss you. I just had nobody to take the piss out of in the rare moments my girlfriend was able to put me down.’

‘Ignore him,’ Millie smiled as he turned to hug her next. ‘He’s still an idiot.’

Spencer then turned to Jasmine, a shy smile suddenly replacing the gawky grin.

‘I’ve missed you,’ Jasmine said as they hugged too. ‘So have the kids. They ask every day whether a year has gone by yet.’

As they parted, Spencer turned to the girl who had followed him over. ‘Dylan… Millie… Jasmine… I’d like you to meet Tori.’

‘I’ve heard so much about you,’ Tori said as she stepped forward to shake hands.

‘Oh God,’ Dylan said, ‘and you still came to see us. You must be really brave.’

Tori let out an adorable giggle. She was petite, not much more than five feet tall, and her hair was a fiery red, long with a full fringe accentuating the deep blue of her eyes, a tiny diamond stud in her nose. She seemed like a lot of fun.

‘So…’ Jasmine said, ‘you and Spencer—’

‘Yes, we’re an item,’ Spencer cut in. ‘No, she doesn’t need a guide dog and she is quite sane, thank you. Any more jokes you want to trot out about my suitability as a boyfriend… Dylan?’

‘I was going to ask where you met,’ Jasmine replied. ‘I guessed the dating bit as you’ve clearly persuaded her to fly thousands of miles with you to attend a bakery opening in Britain’s tiniest village.’

‘Britain’s drunkest village,’ Dylan added. ‘Frank’s scrumpy is doing the rounds; you should get Tori a glass. That’d be some introduction to British life.’

‘Maybe that’s one she doesn’t need,’ Spencer smiled. ‘Tori teaches at Riversmeet Elementary, where I’m posted now.’

‘As soon as this cute guy with the gorgeous accent arrived I just knew I had to get to know him a little better,’ Tori said.

‘But then he left and you had to make do with Spencer instead?’ Dylan asked.

‘Very funny, Dylan.’ Spencer flipped a two-finger salute and Dylan roared with laughter.

‘Mr Johns! You’d better not let the kids see you do that!’

Ruth appeared, teleported to the scene of new gossip like a magnet drawn to an iron girder. ‘Spencer!’ she slurred. ‘How lovely to see you! And who is this?’ She pointed a wandering finger at Tori, who looked vaguely alarmed at the new arrival.

‘What time do you make it?’ Millie asked Dylan as Rich now joined the group. Spencer and Tori were dragged off to be interrogated and plied with cider.

‘We’ve got ten minutes yet,’ Dylan said, glancing at his watch. ‘Everything is set up, relax.’

‘I’ve got butterflies,’ Millie said.

‘Me too, as it happens,’ Dylan replied. ‘It’s good to see him looking so well,’ he added, angling his head to where Spencer was being manhandled into a hug by Ruth. For such an old woman, she seemed to be causing him surprising difficulty. Tori was looking on with a bemused expression.

‘I knew Spencer would be ok,’ Millie said. ‘The cards told me so.’

‘Oh yes…’ Dylan said with a grin. ‘Have you done them on our behalf, psychic Sally? I’d like to know what sort of mess this bakery is going to get me in.’

‘You said only a moment ago that getting involved with the bakery was the best thing you ever did,’ Millie said.

‘A boy can change his mind, can’t he?’

Millie smiled. ‘I have done them, as a matter of fact… only last night while you were snoring in the armchair.’

‘And what did you see for us?’

‘I saw a lot of sleepless nights, a serious lack of money, some minor stressful situations… and a whole lot of poo and sick.’

‘What the hell are you planning to put in the pies?’

Jasmine let out a guffaw. ‘I don’t think I need cards to see what’s going on here.’

‘Let me in on the secret then,’ Dylan grinned. ‘What’s this thing that apparently only girls can know about?’

A slow smile spread over Millie’s face.

Jasmine smiled too, though she kept her hunch to herself, realising it probably wasn’t her place to break news that, judging by Dylan’s face, clearly hadn’t been broken yet. ‘Maybe I’d better leave you two to have a chat,’ she said, slipping away.

Millie looked up at Dylan. ‘I’m pregnant.’

‘Bloody hell! Are you sure?’ Dylan looked dazed. His hand was shaking now as he ran it through his hair.

Millie nodded.

‘How long have you known?’

‘About two days.’

‘And you didn’t think to tell me before now?’

‘I wanted to… but we were so busy organising today and I didn’t want to give you anything else to worry about… Please don’t be angry.’

He stared at her. ‘I’m not angry, I’m just…’

‘We should go somewhere a little quieter,’ Millie said. She took him by the hand and led him to the secluded yard at the back of the bakery. Once she closed the gate behind them they were swallowed by the shade of the high walls. ‘I’m sorry. I should have told you earlier and this was a stupid time to make jokes about the cards. It was just with all the excitement… Well, it felt like another exciting thing to add to it.’

‘It’s ok,’ Dylan said.

‘You don’t look as though you think it’s ok.’

‘I’m fine. How about you? Are you sick? Do you need anything? Will you be able to work? What about…’

Millie held up a hand to stop him. ‘I feel fine. I don’t think I’m far enough gone yet to get morning sickness. As for the baking, I might have to get some help for a while but we’ll work something out. I might be pregnant, but you and the bakery are still important. That will never change.’

Dylan sat on a stone bench and stared up at her.

‘What are you thinking?’ Millie said, taking a seat beside him and smoothing his hair away from his forehead. ‘Whatever it is you can tell me.’

‘I’m going to be a dad,’ he said quietly.

‘Yes.’

‘Me… a dad?’

‘Yes.’

‘An actual dad that does dad stuff…’

‘Yes,’ Millie said. ‘Are you scared?’

‘I’m bloody terrified.’

Millie took his hand in hers. ‘Me too. But we’ll be ok, won’t we?’

‘I suppose so…’ He gazed at her. ‘What if I let you down?’

‘You won’t.’

‘How do you know?’