Page 48 of A Recipe for Love
He leaned back against the wall of the courtyard. ‘I am so very glad you’re here.’
‘Good.’ She moved in front of him, standing in the space between his feet, pressing her legs against his thighs. ‘I’m glad too.’
‘Really?’
She hesitated.
‘It’s OK. You can say.’
‘I’m not used to having this much free time.’ That was unfair. He was working all the hours and she was complaining about being a lady of leisure. ‘I’m sorry. It’s fine.’
‘No. It’s not what you expected, it is? Any of this.’ His hand was stroking the small of her back, sending a flush of warmth radiating from his touch. ‘If you want to go I get it.’
The heat turned to ice. ‘What do you mean “go”?’
He stared down at the floor. ‘Whatever you need it to mean. You can take my keys and go to Edinburgh, and I’ll come over after… all of this. But I know this isn’t what you thought you were getting into, so if you need to go, I… I would understand.’
She could go. She could choose to be far away from here. She could be back in a busy kitchen. She could be dancing in a field with strangers who had the potential to become best friends. She could be frying prawns over coals on a beach a million miles away from here. But, a million miles away from here was a million miles away from him. Bella shook her head. ‘Unless that’s what you want.’
‘Of course not.’ The relief on his face was obvious.
Bella exhaled.
‘I want you to be happy.’
‘I am.’
He looked unconvinced.
‘Well I will be. Wherever I lay my hat and all that.’ She took his hand. ‘I’m here for you. OK?’
‘OK.’ He pressed a warm soft kiss to her lips. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re very welcome. Now get back to work before I really start distracting you.’
Adam disappeared back towards the office and Bella trudged back inside and across the hallway, catching her foot on something in her way and tripping onto her knees. She pulled herself back to standing and retrieved the single wellington that had found its way into her path. ‘I still do not believe in you, Poppy,’ she muttered.
Chapter Seven
Bella hadn’t been to very many funerals in her life. She’d been to one vigil on a beach for a guy she’d met in Mexico who’d died in a diving accident. She’d been to two services at the big crematorium behind the B&Q in Leeds. This one had significantly more tweed than any of those, and none of those memorials had been for people she was desperately close to. Neither was this – she’d never met Alexander Lowbridge – but somehow his death had changed her life.
In the past she’d always left remembrance ceremonies feeling like she had learned something more about the person being celebrated. She’d taken away a feeling of regret for a life ended but also joy for a person who had lived to the full. Alexander’s service felt impersonal by comparison. He’d been a good man, Jill had declared, and a conscientious laird who had taken his responsibilities seriously.
The turn-out, and the mutterings of agreement at her comments, seemed to bear that out, but for much of the service Alexander seemed strangely distant. Only when Adam took to his feet did Bella get a sense of the father he was grieving rather than the distant laird. Adam spoke about his father’s love of the land, of wildlife, of his garden. He spoke of a man who was happiest with his hands in the soil. He spoke of the way his father had taught him to find his own passion of planting and harvesting and laying out gardens that could bring joy to other families.
As he closed his eulogy, Adam swallowed deeply and inhaled hard, apparently fighting off tears. ‘I think it’s fair to say,’ he continued, ‘that I was never the most academically gifted child.’ There were a few affectionate laughs in the congregation, but Bella could see Veronica’s lips pursing in her peripheral vision.
‘And parts of school were really hard. Not the rugby and the tree-climbing, but the maths and the English. I honestly struggled to get through those.’ He looked up. ‘There are people here who had the misfortune to be amongst my teachers. I can only apologise.’ Another smattering of affectionate chuckles. ‘But my father believed that if you weren’t gifted in one area, that simply meant you needed to find your place and your passion somewhere else. He truly thought that everyone was the right fit for something. Ultimately, he was the right fit for Lowbridge. He loved this place and its people. He loved the landscape and the land itself. I only hope I can live up to the standards he set.’
Adam moved back to his place between Darcy and Bella in the front pew. Bella reached instinctively for his hand, but it was wrapped closed in a tight fist. She lay her hand over this and sent a silent prayer up into the cool chapel air that he would let her soothe him. After a second or two, he pulled his hand away.
They led the way out of the chapel and through to the courtyard, where Flinty had enlisted Nina’s help in laying out teas and coffees, along with huge platters of sandwiches, her own lemon drizzle cake and Bella’s millionaire’s shortbread. The day was bright and sunny, with a hint of sea breeze keeping things pleasant. Slowly, the conversation escalated from a restrained funereal whisper into a more relaxed babble of chatter. Bella moved from group to group, refreshing cups and clearing away empty plates.
At the centre of the largest group she heard Darcy laughing. She seemed to be on better form today, and company clearly suited her.
Bella picked up a cup and saucer that had been left on the cobbles next to a bench.
‘Flinty can do that, dear.’ Veronica was holding a single finger sandwich and looking slightly disdainfully at the gathered throng.
