“No! No, sorry, I’m just a little out of it still from all this.” She chuckles awkwardly and gestures to the stage. She is too busy, but she finds herself looking at Rab, who glances up and smiles at her, suddenly not so shy, and she looks back at Chris, who seems to be pleading, and finds herself saying, “I can make time.”
Chris looks relieved and waves Rab over. “Rab,” he announces, “Susan is going to teach you how to do pastry. Make sure she shows you how to do those brownies of hers.”
“Ah no, that’s a family recipe,” says Susan. “You’ll have to marry me to get it.”
What did I just say? Susan’s so horrified, she cringes.
Gloria laughs and announces, “The gauntlet has been thrown, Chris!”
Thank God, Susan’s family chooses that moment to make their way to the stage. Most of them anyway: William and the boys have long since disappeared.
Kay throws her arms around her niece. “Oh, Susan! Your mother and grandfather would be so proud. Well done, you!”
“Yes, well done, my dear. Knew you could do it!” Bernard drops a kiss on his daughter’s flushed cheek.
“That’ll be some nice publicity,” Julia comments. She turns to Chris and adds in a cool tone, “Congratulations to you too, on today and the restaurant.”
“Thank you,” he says, sounding surprised at receiving a compliment from her.
Susan can’t help but notice the way her father purses his lips and only barely manages to give Chris a curt nod.
“Sorry, the boys got bored,” Meg explains. “William took them to play in the sand pit near the beer garden. It’s nice, this festival, isn’t it? I didn’t really know what to expect—we’re forever getting people from Pilton down to this park, and I was afraid there’d be loads of them here today, but I suppose charging admission really helps.”
“Eat this, Meg,” Susan says hurriedly, shoving a spare pudding into her sister’s hand. She notices Rab ducking his head again, and Chris is looking daggers at her sister.
“Is this vegan?” Meg asks, examining it.
“Yes, Meg, it’s a vegan custard,” Julia says dryly, looking up from a text she’s drafting just long enough to roll her eyes.
“Such things do exist, you know!” Meg huffs. “Have I told you I’m going pesce-vegan?” she says to Susan, spooning up a bit of the custard. “I’m totally vegan, except I still eat fish. And sausage. And bacon.”
“Meg, darling, I really must buy you a dictionary for your birthday,” Kay says before turning to Chris. She gives him an icy appraisal, then extends her hand. “I must congratulate you on your new restaurant, Mr. Baker. I hear it’s doing very well. And you are looking quite well. Much better than the last time I saw you.”
Chris’s mouth tightens as he takes her hand, clamping down a little harder than is necessary. “Thank you. I hear your play is going to be quite something. Seems you’ve found your niche, playing a woman destroying her own family. I wish you well with it.”
She smiles in a way that suggests she’d love to do him violence. Susan notices Rufus hovering nearby, taking it all in. In a bid to distract everyone, she says to Chris, “Let me give you my number—Kay, do you have a pen?” She scrabbles for a slip of paper, tearing one off the edge of one of Gloria’s prep checklists. “Just send me a text or phone me to make arrangements for Rab.” She nods in the direction of the boy, and everyone glances his way. He notices and blushes at the attention, fumbling a box he’s holding and tipping ingredients all over the table, which makes Susan feel terrible. So does Bernard’s whispered “Good God” at the sight of the boy’s birthmark.
“Gracious, Susan, how in demand you are!” Kay declares. “A date with Philip tomorrow, and this as well.”
Susan blushes as dark as Rab. “It’s not a date,” she insists as Julia’s head snaps up from her phone so she can demand, “Philip? Not Philip Simms?”
“Philip Simms? Really? You kept that quiet, you sly thing,” Gloria laughs, clapping Susan on the back.
Rufus is practically drunk on this.
“It’s not a date. He just wants to see the city,” Susan repeats, seeing Chris draw away.
“I’ll be in touch,” he says, turning his back on her and going to help Rab.
“Call it what you will. You young people don’t ‘date’ anymore, do you? There’ll be some other term for it,” Kay purrs. “Come on, celebratory glass of champagne in the VIP tent, eh? You too, Gloria, of course.”
“Thank you,” says Gloria.
“Susan? You coming?” Kay beckons her niece from the door of the tent.
“Yes,” Susan answers, slinking after them, wondering how she’s gone from elated to deflated in roughly the amount of time it took her sorbet to melt.
Chapter Sixteen
Water, Wander, Wonder
Reluctant as she is to admit it, seeing Philip the next day definitely lifts Susan’s mood. It’s hard to be glum when a beautiful man is standing on your doorstep with flowers.
“I hear congratulations are in order.” He proffers a bouquet of gerbera daisies. “Kay said you blew the competition out of the water.”
“I wouldn’t put it quite like that,” Susan demurs, accepting the flowers with a grateful smile. “It was actually fairly close.”
“Nevertheless, I’m going to stand you a celebratory drink. Or cake. Your choice.”
“Let’s see how we feel after our walk,” Susan suggests. “A wander along the Waters of Leith?”
“Yes, please.”
Susan turns and sees Julia standing behind her, wearing a bright, false smile.
“Hello,” she says to Philip. “Didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”
“Here I am,” he says unnecessarily with a self-deprecating grin and a spread of his hands. “You can’t get rid of me. I just keep cropping up.”
“Mmm, like a stinging nettle or athlete’s foot.” Julia gestures to the flowers. “Would you like me to put those in water for you?”
“Yes, thank you.” Susan hands them off and steers Philip back out the door, wondering if she’ll return to a vase filled with nothing but decapitated stems.
“She seems … nice,” Philip offers.
“She can be if she’s handled properly.”
“She sounds like my ex, then.” He chuckles as they cross Queensferry Road and wind down into Dean Village, a quaint collection of old stone mill buildings clustered around the glittering, gushing Waters of Leith. “I’ve decided I’m done with high-maintenance girls.”
“Oh?”
“God, yes. No more actresses for me. The demands! The constant need for attention! And the scheduling challenges! My last girlfriend—we dated each other for over a year but were only actually in the same place together for a total of three weeks. That’s three weeks spread out over an entire year. I added it up. She was shooting in South Africa while I was doing a play in London, and then I was shooting in Croatia while she was doing a promotional tour in Asia. We only really saw each other at awards ceremonies, and you’re always on show at those things, so that wasn’t, you know, real.” He shrugs. “I probably could have handled things better with her. But screwing things up now and again is how we learn, right?”