Page 48 of Go Cook Yourself

Cookie snores in my passenger seat. The curl of hair over his eyes reminds me of Garett.

I don’t understand who kept the dog from him or why Garett wouldn’t tell me who it was.

Jem dropped Cookie off to me in a quiet lane in case he was followed. We’ve taken to this plan like secret agents. Maybe Garett doesn’t want me to meet his ex. He said it was best I wasn’t too involved because he didn’t want me in trouble, yet it was okay for Jem, Kath, and Flora to be in trouble. None of it makes sense.

But the ultimate goal is worth most of the secrets.

Garett’s joy that he might get his dog back nearly broke me, and I’m glad I’m part of it. I don’t want to fall for him, yet I spend most of my time daydreaming about him.

I shake myself. There’s something else I should be thinking about. My car crunches on the gravel as I drive through a gateway and pull up to the house that carries memories that make me bite the inside of my cheeks.

It’s a typical bricked house in the Cotswolds. Plant plots sit outside the front door. Even in the dark, they appear like they’vebattled a hedge trimmer and lost. My parents were never good at gardening and weren’t house-proud either.

The cookery school was their proudest achievement. Guilt ripples through my body. It was a proud achievement I didn’t want a part of until now.

Jem found out that Cookie could stay. I still haven’t spoken to them. My fingers tremble as I stare at the wooden door. Grandma and Grandad lived here until they died. Grandad made the door during his retirement. Not that it was much of a retirement, as they were all running the cookery school from the back garden building as it was then.

Tears stream down my face as I remember my grandparents. I missed out on so much, and it was all my fault. I can’t bring their last years back, and I can’t replace the time I’ve missed with my parents.

Cookie paws my arm. I bury my face, now stained with sadness, into his fur as I cuddle him. I won’t choose a man above my family and future again.

Suddenly, my door opens, and delight rumbles through the car.

“My little girl,” my mum’s voice cries out. “You’re home.”

I turn, and instead of anger or wariness, her eyes sparkle with delight. Her smile is the same as the one she’d have when we opened Christmas presents as kids.

I’m aware of a van pulling behind me as I unclip my seatbelt. I expect it’s Garett, but for whatever reason, his door remains closed as I jump out, and my mum embraces me in a hug that wipes away all the fear and guilt I’ve carried for years. My dad joins us, and soon, it’s a three-person hug that smells of honey and orange gin—my mum—and whiskey—my dad. It’s the scent of family parties, accompanied by all the other scents of my childhood: apple crumbles and rosemary handwash.

“I’ve missed you, Ruby Red,” my dad says, and I swear there are tears behind his words. I’m crying harder now. My mum’s sobs carry through the wind as Cookie’s paws tap behind me signalling he’s jumped out of the car. He nuzzles my leg like he wants to be part of the reunion.

“Are you back for good?” The hope in my mum’s voice warms my heart instead of cutting it like it would have done a few months ago.

“Yes.”

“Every cloud.”

I roll my eyes at my dad’s use of our family saying. Every cloud has a silver lining. It’s a Cloud family favourite, but as I roll my eyes, the tears continue and my heart soars.

This carries on for ages. Soon, Cookie jumps at us like a circus poodle. His arms are in the air, and he bounces on his back feet. My parents step back as Cookie dances. Belly-shaking laughs burst from my dad, who, under the moonlight, resembles a Father Christmas wannabe with his salt-and-pepper beard and hair. My mum’s aged, too, but she still looks like a viper who’d kick your ass and hug you at the same time.

“Garett,” my mum exclaims. “Come and join the love in.”

I turn. Garett stands against his van with a sheepish smile. It’s the same one he wore for most of the family dinner earlier that evening. But either Mum can’t see it or she doesn’t care. She beckons him into a hug that suggests she could squeeze the life out of him even though she’d struggle with his height.

My dad hugs Garett as soon as my mum is done with him. No stiff upper lip back tapping from my parents. When they want you to feel love, you know it. I’ve missed that.

“Dad,” I call out, “put him down. He should spend time with Cookie.”

“It’s okay,” Garett replies gruffly as Dad puts him down, but the pop of his eyebrows suggests relief.

“Shall we all go to the house and discuss what’s happening? Jem said we’re dog-sitting for a couple of months.”

“If that’s okay,” Garett says.

This was my part of the plan. My parents didn’t have time for a dog when they ran the cookery school, and it was their dream to have one. This will allow them to try one out until Garett’s ex-girlfriend, or whoever we’ve taken Cookie from, gets bored of looking for him.

“Of course. You’re part of the Cloud family now,” my mum replies.

---