Page 12 of Stolen Kiss

“Yes, so get your backside down here or I’m starting on the roast potatoes.”

That got Heidi moving because that wasn’t an idle threat. Freya loved roast potatoes and would make Heidi make them often. If she could get away with it, Freya would charm Heidi to make a batch before they went out drinking so that could eat them cold with mayonnaise at two in the morning while they watched trash TV until they fell asleep.

One more brush of mascara and Heidi was ready. It was Sunday and on Sundays, everyone congregated to Heidi and Keith’s home to eat themselves stupid with great food. Heidi was in charge of roast potatoes. Freya was in charge of dessert which was usually a cheesecake. Freya’s family did the veg and Heidi’s mum did the roast meat. Heidi’s dad was in charge of Yorkshire puddings. He’d had them in the pub one day and learned how to cook them. Now everyone insisted it didn’t matter which joint of meant they were having, it had to have Yorkshire puddings.

Heidi trotted down the stairs and headed straight to the kitchen giving her best friend the side eye, checking her mouth for grease marks. When she couldn’t see any her first thought was Freya had washed her face. Going into the kitchen, she lifted the foil over the potatoes and counted.

There was one missing.

“Freya,” Heidi called out, not hiding her whine.

“You took too long. Let’s go,” Freya said holding a large glass dish with what looked to be trifle.

Heidi grinned and lifted her tray and followed Freya out picking up their handbags on the way.

They could’ve walked to her parent’s place but with precious cargo they didn’t chance it. They each got into the golf buggy packed around the side of the house. Freya was driving which meant she wedged the trifle between her feet and the potatoeswere on her lap, gently burning her thighs as they weren’t long out of the oven.

“I think I’ve got these the wrong way around,” Heidi said lifting the tray off her lap and holding it up, swaying with the buggy as Freya took corners on two wheels.

“We’re here, stop grumbling. You had it the right way, no way was I risking those beauties. The trifle could hurtle off for all I care. But those,” she said lifting the foil lid knowing Heidi couldn’t move. “These have my name on them.”

“There’s twenty here, two each. You’ve already had the spare.”

“You should buy a bigger tray, babe. I have needs.”

Giggling, Heidi nudged her friend, and they sashayed up to the main house and in through the unlocked front door. Her father greeted her like he hadn’t seen her for weeks with a bear hug and a wet kiss on the cheek. Freya got the same treatment and then the rest of the family joined in. Except Keith. He was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Keith?” Heidi asked putting the potatoes in the oven to keep warm.

“Down the garden,” her mum answered as she prodded the joint of pork with her new fancy temperature stick.

The butchers on the high street had got a few in a month ago and something snapped them up, so he had to order more. It displeased her mother she had to wait for the second shipment. She made it very clear to Mr Boyle that four generations on the island had to count for something.

Mr Boyle was in his nineties and was tired of keeping the peace. There was serious talk of him retiring the one hour a day he spent in his butcher’s shop he had worked in since he could see over the counter.

“I’ll go get him.”

“He’s in a mood, love.”

Heidi rolled her eyes. “He’s always in a mood.”

Her brother had been in a mood for eleven years. Even since he found out she’d been dating Jason behind his back. She wondered if the second Turner sibling returning had anything to do with his mood getting worse?

She marched down the garden, weaving through the different vegetable patches her dad grew until she walked through a patch of waist high shrubbery. On the other side was a thirty-two feet static caravan with a front porch. They arranged garden furniture in front of the porch with a dinner plate sized candle with black wicks. Heidi trotted up the three steps and stomped along the decking to let her brother know she was on her way. The door at the end was ajar, and she pushed it open. From the side she approached, the van looked basic and temporary but when she walked in the place never failed to take her breath away.

Her brother had bought three static caravans and had taken the sides out of two of them and sealed them together. It was all open plan apart from the bathroom. At the far end the doors slid open revealing a second decking with a balcony overlooking the cliff and out to sea.

“This view is amazing, Keith. Have you added anything new?”

Keith was in a comfy armchair that had been in the house for a decade. It was large enough for her to curl up in and read a book. A blanket was draped over the back for chillier days.

He looked up and tossed his phone onto the long sofa next to him.

“Hey sis. Is dinner ready?” he said ignoring her question. He didn’t seem that out of sorts.

He got up and walked over to give her a hug.

“Nearly. I’ve come to collect you.”

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