Page 18 of Just the Beginning

Anya scoffed. ‘Now you’re being ridiculous! Rick barely noticed I was alive. He, Liam and Matt always acted like being expected to look out for us was the biggest burden of their lives.’

Issy shrugged. ‘Whether you were aware of it or not, back then Rick only ever had eyes for you, and plenty of the local girls knew it. Shelly had a big crush on him and she made a bit of a fool of herself asking him to the leavers’ dance.’

‘Surely she can’t blame me for that?’ Anya exclaimed.

Chloe frowned. ‘No, I’m sure she doesn’t blame you for Rick rejecting her, at least not directly, but seeing you probablybrought back a lot of those teenage memories and she lashed out.’

‘Well, I hope that’s all it is because the Quay is too small for me to go tiptoeing around trying to avoid her.’ She shook her head. Whatever Shelly’s problem was, it was exactly that –herproblem. As for what her friends had said about Rick liking her? They were surely mistaken, because he’d never shown so much of a hint of it. Not that she’d considered any of the Penrose brothers as anything other than an extended part of the family circle. Even if he had taken a shine to her back in the day, so much water had passed under that bridge.

11

‘What can I do?’ Rick’s mother asked him as she peered around his arm to try and see what he was doing.

You can go away and let me get on with it. ‘Nothing, Mum,’ he assured her, keeping his eyes on the chicken browning in the pan. ‘The whole point of me cooking this evening was so you and Dad could chill out a bit. Go and sit down and watchTVor something.’

‘I don’t want to watch theTV, not when I can be lending you a hand. Are you sure you don’t need to turn the chicken? It looks a little dark on the edges.’

Rick turned his head and gave her a look. Amused, Rachel raised her hands and backed away but only as far as the kitchen table where she took a seat. ‘So what are you making, anyway?’

‘Chicken and chorizo ragu. I got the recipe from Anya and she promised me it was straightforward enough.’ Rick flipped the chicken over with a spatula.

‘How is she?’

Rick shot a quick glance at his mother. ‘Anya? Okay I guess, Ihaven’t seen her since I popped over to sort out her contract for the hotel.’

‘Haven’t seen who?’ Ed Penrose swept into the kitchen like the force of nature he was, his limp barely noticeable these days. Twelve years previously, an accident had almost cost Ed his leg and it had taken months of physiotherapy and strength exercises before he could walk again. After bending over to peck a kiss on their mother’s cheek, Ed came to lean against the counter next to Rick. ‘Mmm something smells good, Freddie-boy,’ he said, reaching into a bowl of sundried tomatoes and snagging a piece, which he chucked into his mouth. ‘What’s the special occasion?’

‘Don’t call me that,’ Rick said, wishing for the umpteenth time that he hadn’t come out the worst when it came to their mum’s obsession with Jane Austen. She’d been pregnant with Liam when the BBC had shown a new adaptation ofPride and Prejudiceand Rachel had been hooked from that moment on.

Bloody Colin Firth and his wet shirt had a lot to answer for.

It hadn’t been so bad for the twins because Henry and Edward were pretty acceptable names as they stood, but being saddled with Frederick and Fitzwilliam had required a little more creative thinking from Rick and Liam to find acceptable diminutives.

Having finally readPersuasiona few years ago, Rick had come to accept his mum had meant it when she’d told him being named after Frederick Wentworth was a compliment because he was the best of the Austen heroes, but his younger self had found it an utter torment, which is why at thirteen he’d grandly announced he would no longer answer to Frederick or the utterly cringe-inducing Freddie and wanted to be known as Rick. Most people had accepted it without any fuss, though it had taken the family a bit longer to adjust. But this wasn’t a slipof the tongue on Ed’s part, just him being a brat. Rick raised the wooden spoon ready to smack the back of his brother’s hand, which was edging towards the bowl again. ‘Stop picking.’

‘Leave your brother alone, darling, and come and help me set the table,’ Rachel admonished Ed fondly. She said everything to him fondly, Rick thought, somewhat uncharitably, then immediately felt bad. Though Harry and Ed were identical twins and separated by a matter of minutes, Ed was definitely the baby of the family. Rick was just as bad as the rest of them when it came down to it, he acknowledged to himself as he fished out another piece of tomato and handed it to his brother before shooing him away. Given the months of worry they’d all gone through after his accident, it was no wonder he got spoiled.

Deciding the chicken was well done, Rick scraped it into the waiting casserole dish then chucked the chorizo into the hot frying pan, stirring it quickly before tossing in the diced onions and garlic. A fragrant hiss filled the kitchen and more than a little smoke, so he reached above his head and flipped on the extractor fan above the hob.

‘Smells like something’s on fire in here,’ his dad said as he walked into the kitchen straight past everyone and pushed wider one of the windows Rick had already opened to let out some of the heat. ‘So this is where everyone’s hiding.’

‘Not hiding, darling. I just came in to offer Rick a hand,’ his mum said. ‘But he’s made it clear that I’m not needed.’ Though she said it in a teasing manner, Rick could sense that she was a little hurt by his rejection of her offer to help.

He blew out a breath and wondered why he’d suggested making dinner in the first place. He loved his family, he truly did, but none of them were very good at taking a back seat. ‘There’s not really anything you can do here, Mum. I’ve done allthe prep, so it’s just a case of putting everything in the pot and that’s really a one-person job. Besides, I thought you and Ed were going to set the table?’

‘Yes, of course. Ed, get some plates down while I get the cutlery.’

They all set to work, including Jago, who opened the cabinet behind him and retrieved a set of wine glasses.

When his mum came to stand in front of the drawer next to him and began pulling out knives and forks, Rick gave her a gentle bump with his hip. ‘Tell you what else you could do. There’s a load of bits I picked up from the deli earlier; you can put a selection out for nibbles. I’ll only be a few minutes and then we can all sit down together.’

‘Leave it to me,’ she said, giving him a sunny smile. ‘What about drinks?’

‘There’s a bottle of white wine they recommended to go with it.’ Rick was more of a lager drinker, but he wasn’t averse to a nice glass of wine now and then, particularly on a warm Friday evening.

That was enough to distract them so Rick could finish up in peace. With all the ingredients added to the dish, he gave it one final stir before putting on the lid and placing it in the oven he’d set to preheat.

Taking his seat at the table, he accepted the wine his father had poured for him and raised his glass. ‘Cheers.’

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