Page 52 of The Fete of Summer

When he finally reached the darkened front windows of the bakery, he refused to look into the two huge panes of ancestral eyes glaring at him.

Was Polly right?

Was his sense of loyalty to the family business outdated and misguided?

* * * *

Later that morning, just after ten, having showered and dressed and stuck around long enough to help through the morning rush, Nathan tossed his overnight bag into the back of Jaymes’ Land Rover. Even Jaymes’ unbridled enthusiasm as he hammered down the stairs could not quash Nathan’s anxiousness.

“I need to drop off files to a colleague in Frome in Somerset,” he said as he squeezed into the driving seat and started the engine. “A minor diversion. Is that going to be okay?”

“Of course.”

“Then I thought we could stop for lunch. Should get us into the Cotswolds mid-afternoon.”

“Sure.”

“Can you text Gallagher and let him know?”

“Will do,” said Nathan.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. I’m fine,” said Nathan, bowing his head to his phone and prodding the screen.

For a change, the draughty Land Rover felt overheated and stuffy. Nathan popped open the top buttons of his shirt as one road after another slipped past. A minute later, he rolled down the window and breathed cool air. His stomach felt unsettled. Strange, because he had never suffered from car sickness, even as a child. They managed to reach the outskirts of Crumbington before Nathan demanded Jaymes pull the car over.

“I can’t do it, Jaymes.” He braced his hands against the dashboard, his breathing erratic and his heart racing. “I can’t leave the shop unsupervised.”

“It’s not unsupervised, Nate. Fingal is more than capable—”

“I know. Iknow,” said Nathan, putting his head into his hands and scrubbing at his hair, his heart still pounding. “In theory, I know he is. Better than anyone. But I have this feeling that if I leave, something terrible will happen. Don’t ask me how or why, but I just know.”

“Okay, Nate. Now you’re sounding irrational. Nothing’s going to happen—”

“How do youknow?” shouted Nathan, looking up and glaring at Jaymes, hearing himself getting hysterical. “Youdon’t.Nobodydoes. Shit happens that none of us can predict.”

“Nate, Nathan,” said Jaymes, switching off the engine and pulling Nathan into his arms. “Christ, you’re shaking, baby. Take a few breaths.”

Very soon, Jaymes’ body heat began to work its magic. He hugged Nathan tight and stroked calming circles into his back with the palm of his hand.

“I’ve told very few people this,” Nathan murmured into his shoulder. “Not even Polly. But my mother was taken into hospital while I was at school. I came home that day to find her gone. I had to say goodbye to her from the side of a hospital bed. And my father died in his sleep. A heart attack. I found him after I returned home from a morning run. If I’d been there—”

“You could have done nothing, Nate. Okay, look. I’m no psychiatrist, but my guess is that your worry comes from the feeling you’re abandoning the shop. I get it, Nate. I do. But in the case of your parents, hell, even in the case of Clifton, they left you and there wasn't a damn thing you could have done. This time, you’re in control. This time the choice is yours, and you’re going back. You’re not abandoning anyone or anything, are you?”

Tears welled in Nathan’s eyes. Everything Jaymes said made sense. He had told himself the same thing time and time again. But nobody had ever reflected those thoughts back to him.

“I hate this fucking village, Jay. I do. And I hate my fucking life here. Why can’t I be normal? Why can’t I have a normal life like everyone else?”

“You think everyone else has it better? Sorry to piss in your pastry, Nate, but that’s simply not the case. One of Polly’s teaching colleagues, a single parent, is bringing up a young son with cerebral palsy. And do you know what terrifies her most, what keeps her awake at night? The thought of what’s going to happen when she’s too old to care for him. Or what happens to him if anything happens to her. More people than you can imagine are dealing with real nightmares and just trying to make it through each day.”

Still held by Jaymes, Nathan quietened, hearing their hearts almost beating in tandem.

“Look, if you really don’t want to go,” said Jaymes, “we will turn around right now and head back. But if it helps any, remember that Polly’s going to be there the whole weekend and she’ll call if there’s a problem. Halina, Arthur and Fingal have your contact number. And we’re a drive away, in the unlikely event we need to get back urgently. More importantly, you deserve this break. You’ve earned it. So what do you want to do? Just say the word.”

Nathan pulled away and straightened. He could breathe again. Without looking at Jaymes, he swiped at his eyes with the palm of his hand.

“Did you ever see that filmThe Forgotten?” he asked, trying to make light of his meltdown. “With Julianne Moore. About aliens abducting kids, removing the parents’ memories of them and then observing to see if they ever recalled their own offspring?”

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