She carried on taking photos, snapping cartoon cats, pink-and-white polka-dot walls and a spray-painted waterfall scene that dominated one side of a building. As Finn led the way north into the buzzing Karolinenviertel neighbourhood, she spotted her first mosaic of the day on a wall outside a boutique clothing store.
‘Hair of the Otto?’ Finn suggested when they drew level with a bar that was blasting reggae music into the street, but Pepper shook her head.
‘I can’t.’ She grimaced. ‘I daren’t risk it.’
‘Poor Pepper pot.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘Coffee instead?’
She agreed to a peppermint tea, but even that was a struggle to drink. Whatever fizzing nectar Finn had given her in the bedroom that morning was fast wearing off, and as the heat of the day intensified, so did Pepper’s nausea. Loath to be boring, however, she battled on, exclaiming with pleasure when Finn suggested they visit the flea market, or Flohschanze, as it was known in Hamburg, even though the thought of browsing was making her feel weak.
‘I just need to––’ she said, crumpling down to sit on the kerb.
‘Sorry,’ she added, apologising a further three times as Finn crouched beside her.
‘I’m being pathetic, I know.’
He watched her suppress a yawn.
‘Here,’ he said, moving behind her until she could lean back against his chest. ‘What are you thinking about?’ he asked a moment later, his mouth only inches from her ear.
Pepper shivered at the feel of his breath against her neck.
‘That I’m going to miss you when I have to leave tomorrow,’ she said.
Finn rubbed the tip of his nose against her bare shoulder.
‘Perhaps,’ he said, ‘you will not have time to miss me.’
‘What do you mean?’ Pepper half turned so she could see his face.
‘I was supposed to have a meeting next week, about the restaurant,’ he explained. ‘There is talk of opening a second site, but we need some more investment.’
‘That sounds . . . exciting?’
‘I spoke to Clara last night, asked her if she would go alone, because I want to spend more time with you.’
‘I can’t stay here until next week, though.’ Pepper’s face fell. ‘I have to work.’
‘Ja, I know that,’ he said, only now giving in to a wicked grin.
‘But that does not stop me coming to visit you.’
Chapter 26
It felt to Pepper as if she had barely arrived in Hamburg before it was time to leave again, but at least she did so knowing exactly when she would next see Finn. There was obviously a very large geographical issue standing in the way of their relationship – if she could yet call it that – but neither Pepper nor Finn had brought it up in conversation yet. The small matter of a five-hundred-mile distance between them seemed like nothing compared to their growing feelings, and Pepper was reluctant to throw obstacles in their path when they were progressing along it so seamlessly.
Moving work commitments around in order to have free time for him had unfortunately not been easy, and she felt guilty for letting people down at the last minute. When she called a local mum to explain that her weekly life drawing class would not be taking place, Pepper received a rather sanctimonious telling-off and, in a fit of desperation to make it up, had agreed to help out at the woman’s youngest child’s birthday party.
It was always with a certain amount of trepidation that she accepted a booking of this type – not because the kids themselves caused much trouble, even when they were full of enough sugary treats to climb up the walls, run across the ceilings and back down the other side – it was more due to the behaviour of their parents. Over the past three hours, Pepper had experienced a range of complaints, from the hysterical: ‘No, no – Sebastian simply mustn’t do anything involving paint, it’s full of harmful toxins’, to the ridiculous: ‘Jemima must be told that her drawing is the best one, otherwise there’ll be a tantrum, and nobody wants to see one of those today, do they?’, and the well-meaning yet impractical: ‘If Daisy could only use bamboo brushes and vegan glue, that would be great? We’re raising her as animal-product-free and eco-aware.’
The gang of six- and seven-year-olds at the party – including Sebastian, Jemima and Daisy – had all been having a lovely time sticking fake flowers, dried pasta and sprigs of tinsel on their paper plates until their mums and dads butted in, and by four p.m., when the cake was being cut and party bags were being dished out, Pepper was about ready to dig herself a big hole in the beach and climb into it.
She took the longer route home, idling on the high street and browsing through the rails at her favourite charity shop, where she found a pretty lemon-yellow dress that could have been brand new, save for a small tear along the zip. It never failed to baffle Pepper how easily people would discard things, rather than going to the trouble of fixing them. It would only take her ten minutes with a needle and thread to close the hole, and she’d have something nice to wear when Finn arrived.
It had been a hectic few days, but she had somehow managed to fit an entire spring, summer, autumn and winter clean of her house around a mosaic course, two evening candle-making classes and today’s party. Pepper had been grateful for all the distractions – especially as her mother had been in a listless and disinterested mood when Pepper paid her a visit as usual on Tuesday. Despite knowing that her daughter had been in Hamburg, she did not ask how the trip had gone, or anything at all about Finn. The incident with the brooch felt like it had happened to someone else.
Pepper had been dragging her feet as she made her slow way home but quickened her pace as she saw Josephine leaning against her front gate, hurrying out an apology for having kept her waiting.
‘Nonsense, darling.’ Josephine followed her to the door. ‘It couldn’t matter less. I should have rung first to check if you were at home.’
‘Tea?’
‘Lovely,’ Josephine said, following her inside and settling into a squashy armchair in the front room while Pepper headed into the kitchen.
‘Earl Grey if you have it, please.’
‘I haven’t got any biscuits,’ Pepper said a few minutes later, elbowing open the door and gingerly putting two full mugs down on the coffee table. ‘I’m a terrible host.’
‘And I’m a terrible guest,’ countered Josephine. ‘Not only do I show up unannounced, I also forget to bring any cake. Or any gin, for that matter.’
‘Our waistlines will thank us,’ Pepper said, then instantly regretted it. Over the past few weeks, her friend seemed to have shrunk before her eyes.
Josephine laughed merrily when Pepper told her about that morning’s party, rolling her eyes at the mention of demanding parents.
‘I was never like that, of course,’ she mused. ‘My four practically ran wild growing up – they were like the feral cats that used to come into the garden and do their business in my herb patch.’
‘I don’t think my mum would have noticed what I was eating, doing or painting with,’ Pepper said blithely. ‘Even when she was there in the room with me, she felt absent.’
Josephine looked for a moment as though she might pry further, then thought better of it.