‘Yeah, any other tips?’ drawls Jaz. ‘I’d never be able to get up again if I did that.’
‘Nipple stimulation?’ I suggest with a grin.
She snorts. ‘I’ll take the kitchen floor, thanks. Anyone got a scrubbing brush?’
*****
Next morning, after my day off, I’m back on duty at the Brambleberry Manor Café.
Hope, the manager, is at home recovering after a hysterectomy, and baker Krystle is also off work. She split with her fiancé last month and it’s hit her hard, even though it was a mutual decision. Until recently, she was insisting on coming to work, but Carrie – her twin, who also bakes in the café, job-sharing with her sister – reckoned she wasn’t sleeping or eating. Finally, she came down with a horrible dose of flu, so then she was forced to take time off.
Fen, whose family owns the café, needed a temporary manager, and I was really chuffed when Ellie proposed me. People don’t often put their faith in me like that, and I’m determined to do a great job.
I finish phoning through an order in the office, then join Bertha and Carrie in the café. Molly’s on her day off.
‘It’s a shame they called off their engagement,’ Bertha’s saying, and I realise they’re talking about Krystle. ‘I always thought they seemed good together. You know…solid?’
Carrie nods. ‘It was a shock to me. She says they grew apart. Lost the spark. They were just good mates in the end.’
‘She must still be devastated, though,’ I say. ‘When you’ve been that close to someone, it’s like losing your right arm.’
A heavy weight sinks down inside me. I didn’t know Jack anywhere near as long as Krystle and Ryan were together, but I was still absolutely gutted when we split up. That definitely wasn’t a mutual decision. It was Jack who decided it wasn’t going to work.
And it was all my own stupid fault…
Carrie goes into the kitchen to check on her latest batch of lemon drizzle cakes in the oven, and Bertha folds her arms and says, ‘So, how’s your romance with the handsome Jack going?’
‘Jack?’ The coffee I’m pouring slops into the saucer and, cursing under my breath, I replace it with a clean one. ‘Oh, he’s history,’ I say airily. ‘Not even sure what I saw in him in the first place!’ I laugh to emphasise that I really don’t care, but it sounds a bit like a witch’s cackle.
I hate people feeling sorry for me, which is why I haven’t mentioned anything to Bertha about our break-up. Carrie knows. But only because she caught me the other day staring at my favourite photo of him on my phone with tears in my eyes, and she guessed that something was wrong. And before I knew it, I found myself pouring out the whole sad story. Carrie’s so easy to talk to. She and Krystle aren’t identical twins, but they do look astonishingly alike with their blonde hair and green eyes, although Krystle is a little taller with a more hour-glass figure. But their personalities are quite different. Krystle is the extrovert, while Carrie is quieter, a thinker and a great listener. They remind me of my own twin sisters, Chloe and Jasmine.
Bertha shoots me a curious look. ‘But I thought you and Jack were getting along like a house on fire.’
‘Oh, yes. We were. But…well, some things just aren’t meant to be. We had fun, Jack and I, but neither of us were looking for anything long-term.’
I turn away to load a teapot and milk, and a basket of freshly-baked chocolate croissants onto the tray, but mainly to get myself together. Then I head onto the café floor.
‘Madison?’ Bertha calls. ‘Watch out.’
I turn with gritted teeth. ‘Yes, I know. But I’m fine. Honestly. I wasn’t really in love with Jack. Let’s face it, getting into a relationship may seem tempting, but so was getting on the Titanic, and look what happened there.’
Her face changes to acute alarm. ‘No, I mean, watch out!’
I catch on a second too late. Finding myself cannoning into someone, I try to steady the tray but the milk jug slides off and splatters its contents all over the man’s shoes.
‘Oh, my God. I’m so sorry,’ I begin, staring at the brogues in question. The milk has pooled in the dents around the laces. ‘I didn’t realise…’ Looking up, my words trail away to nothing.
Jack, looking similarly stunned, is staring down at me. ‘Madison? I didn’t know you worked here.’
The horrified look on his face tells me that if he had known, he’d have given the place a very wide berth.
‘I’m…managing the cafe while people are off,’ I mumble, my face scarlet with embarrassment, wondering if he heard me talking about him. ‘So what brings you here?’
He gazes at me, a range of expressions crossing his face, and at first I wonder if he’s going to reply. Then he seems to recollect himself. ‘Um, work. We’ve got permission to film in the woods for a virtual reality commission. Today’s all about doing an initial recce. We’ll be back next week to do the actual filming.’
‘Oh. With that special 360 degrees camera?’
‘With multiple lenses. Yeah, it’s for a computer game.’ He tells me a bit about the project, his face relaxing as he talks on one of his favourite subjects. The world of virtual reality. I always found it fascinating. I could listen to him for hours. ‘It’s the first computer game I’ve had a chance to work on.’
‘Exciting.’ I smile. My heart is racing like it’s just smashed the four hundred metres at the Olympics, although my excitement has little to do with virtual reality projects…
‘Yeah. It is.’
‘I’d love to see it when it’s finished.’ True to form, the words rush out before I can stop them.
A flash of awkwardness crosses his face, and I groan inwardly.
It’s true. I’d really like to see the game he’s working on when it’s done. But did I have to just spew that out as if we’re still as close as we once were?
He smiles at me and even though the sky outside is dark and threatening thunderstorms, in my world the sun comes out. (Yes, I really am a lost cause.) Jack’s eyes crinkle in that oh-so-sexy way that makes my legs suddenly feel as if they’re made of candy floss. ‘I’m sure that could be arranged,’ he says.
‘Yes?’ I swallow hard. Oh, God, yes, please!
‘Oh. What on earth’s happened to your shoes, Jack?’
The female voice cuts across my romantic daydream like a bucket of cold water thrown over two amorous dogs. I spin round and a slender, pretty girl with a glossy brown ponytail and a cute snub nose is standing there, smiling questioningly up at Jack.
It seems to take a second for him to realise she’s there. (Probably because he was lost in chat about virtual reality.) He turns, clearing his throat and making the introductions.
‘This is Jo, who I work with,’ he says. ‘Jo, this is…um…my friend, Madison.’
I stare at him, my heart tumbling off a cliff. So I’m his friend, am I? I suppose that’s better than nothing. If he and this Jo creature are more than work mates, Jack obviously wouldn’t want to introduce me as a former girlfriend because that would be awkward…