Page 42 of The First Chord

“I must have.”

“Do you want me to carry it?” he asked, pulling on the sleeve.

I shook my head. “No. It’ll probably go cold again in a minute.”

“Maybe a cuppa will warm you up.” He pointed and just around the bend I could see a café.

“Sounds like a good idea. My treat,” I added, giving him the side eye as I expected him to say no.

He must have seen how determined I was, because he said, “I tell you what, I’ll race you there and whoever wins pays.Andpays for the cake.”

“That’s not f—”

Before I could finish, he was off, waving his hand over his head and laughing, already acknowledging his win.

I didn’t bother running, it was pointless, so by the time I reached the table he’d grabbed for us, cups were already being put out.

“Which cake would you like?” Ronnie asked, pushing a menu towards me. “I’ve gone for chocolate.”

The lady who’d laid out the cups grinned and waited to one side. “They’re all home-made so all delicious. But if I had to pick, I’d go for the coffee and walnut.”

Ronnie grimaced. “No offence, but walnuts are the food of the devil.”

I shook my head. “I think you’ll find that’s olives.”

“So that’s why there were loads in the bottom of the pizza box last night.” He looked up at the waitress. “She’s wrong, though, right?”

“Hmm.” She tipped her head on one side and thought about it. “I might have to agree, although I hate beetroot.”

“Well, I think you’re both weird, there’s nothing wrong with olives or beetroot.” He leaned forward and peaked over the top of the menu. “Well? What are you having?”

I gave it a quick scan and said, “The food of the devil. Coffee and walnut please.”

She winked at me. “Good choice. I’ll get them for you.”

As she walked away, something struck me, and I leaned closer to Ronnie. “Aren’t you worried about people recognising you?”

“Nah. Besides, I come in here a lot when I’m home. They’re used to me.” He looked at me warily. “Are you worried they’ll recognise you?”

“God, no. No one would know me.” Then a thought struck me. “If someone took a picture of us together, though. It would only add fuel to Jimmy’s fire and could cause some real problems.”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I’ve never had anyone take a picture before, and if they did and sold it to the press, it would be dealt with.”

Every single minute with Ronnie was a revelation. He was a major rockstar, yet nothing seemed to faze him as he eased through his life. Nothing like what I was used to. “It’s funny, you know? If I were here with Jimmy, he’d be desperate for someone to recognise him and take a photograph and then complain about it.”

Ronnie’s face clouded over, and the way his jaw clenched I was sure he was holding back exactly what he wanted to say, so I thought it best to change the subject. “Did the current owner of the cottage tell you when he’s moving out, by the way?”

“No, but I’ll message him for you.” He looked at me and exhaled slowly. “You know you don’t have to rush. You don’t have to go before we go back on the road.”

“I know, but it would be good to get settled in, so I have somewhere to go back to.” I shifted in my seat, feeling uncomfortable about the topic and the trouble it had brought to Ronnie’s door. “Did the record company say how long I have to pretend that Jimmy and I are still together?”

He shook his head. “Ali is going to call me later, to update me. She’s having a meeting with them this morning.”

When the waitress returned with a big pot of tea and our pieces of cake, we paused our conversation. Ronnie’s leg was bouncing the whole time and it was obvious he had more to say. I was right because the moment we were alone again, he started to speak.

“I can’t believe he’s made no effort to apologise.” He poured me some tea and pushed the milk jug towards me. “Has he hasn’t even called you since those ranting voicemails? Or even attempted to change your mind?”

“No.” I shrugged. “He was obviously desperate to be rid of me as much as I wanted to leave.”

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