Page 49 of A Summer House on Arran
‘What?’ she said self-consciously.
‘I didn’t have you down as a baker either,’ he said.
‘Just goes to show you have me all wrong. I have lots of hidden talents.’ She realised that she sounded as though she was flirting. Then she realised that actually shewasflirting, and it was quite good fun.
Logan grinned and she fought back a smile.
He leaned towards her. ‘Now I’m intrigued. Tell me what sort of things you bake.’
‘Well, everything really, as long as it’s vegan.’
Just then the waitress arrived with their food, putting a club sandwich in front of Kitty and a plate with quiche and salad down for Logan. He looked at her plate in confusion. ‘But there’s chicken in that?’
‘Oh, I’m not vegan,’ she said. ‘What happened was that when Cameron was younger, we worked out he had a dairy intolerance, so I started experimenting with cakes and things that didn’t have dairy in them. That way he could take his own stuff to parties. And then somehow, without realising it, I had a cottage business of cake making. When I started to cut out eggs too, I could sell them as vegan cakes, which has become a bit of a thing. I was the go-to for making folk’s birthday cakes.’ She pulled out her phone and opened up her Instagram account, showing him some of the designs.
‘These are incredible,’ he said as she scrolled through pictures of Disney princess cakes, footballs, a putting green on a golf course, stacks of books and a handbag cake. There was even a kayak. ‘You’re so creative.’
She smiled sheepishly. ‘I never used to bake as a child. But I wanted to make sure Cameron didn’t miss out.’
‘How do you find the time?’
‘I just fit it in around work. Obviously, I’m having a break while I’m here.’
‘Is it something you would do full-time?’ he asked, putting a forkful of quiche into his mouth.
‘I’ve toyed with it,’ she admitted. ‘But it might feel like too much pressure and take the fun out of it.’
He nodded. ‘Yes, I get that. Then it becomes a bit of a chore rather than something you genuinely enjoy.’
‘Exactly.’ She took a bite of her sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. Picking up her glass of water, she took a sip and said casually, ‘How about you come over for dinner next time you’re back? I’ll even make my special brownies. All for you.’
Logan looked like he was giving her question serious consideration.
‘Or not?’ said Kitty lightly, trying to quell the flicker of worry that was forming. Had she read all of this completely wrong?
‘Kitty,’ he replied, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement. ‘I would love to come to dinner next week.’
Kitty let out a quiet breath of relief — she felt a small glimmer of pleasure and anticipation at the thought.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Over the next week, Olivia threw herself into organising rehearsal schedules with the kids, spending most of her time down at the community centre practicing routines and helping them perfect their moves. They were so enthusiastic and keen to learn, and it reminded her why she loved teaching so much. Fortunately there weren’t too many urgent emails in her inbox, aside from a few invitations to audition for some major tours that her manager had forwarded her. Normally she would have leaped at the chance, but that wasn’t where her head was at right now. She had emailed Gina back, apologising profusely for her hiatus, but that she was taking some extended time out. She had previously told Gina that she was taking some compassionate leave but hadn’t expanded with any further details. The world of show business could be small at times, and she knew Gina was extremely friendly with Patrick’s agent, so she kept the details vague. She didn’t want to give any hint of where she was in case the news filtered back to Patrick.
She was so glad Amy had thought to reach out and ask for her help with the competition. A project like this was exactly what she needed. She and Kitty caught up each night for supper, but Kitty was equally busy with sorting out her Instagram account and trying new recipes, and she had started the art class and had a new best friend called Alex, who was Amy and Kirsty’s dad.
‘I thought you only had eyes for Logan,’ teased Olivia.
‘Not when Alex is in the room,’ confessed Kitty. ‘He’s great company and so interesting, and did I mention that he’s an amazing painter? I’ve learned so much already just from sitting next to him and watching what he does.’
This particular morning, Olivia woke early to the sound of rain battering against the windows. The house was quiet, whichwas strange as Kitty was normally an early riser. It was when she liked to bake. But on tiptoeing through to the kitchen, there was no sign that she had been there, and her bedroom door was still closed. She certainly deserved a lie-in, and the weather was extremely gloomy. This is what everyone meant when they said the Scottish weather could change in an instant. Olivia had experienced it that first day when arriving at Prestwick, but the good weather that followed had lulled her into a false sense of security. Especially as she and Kitty had sat up late in the garden last night talking after enjoying another warm and sunny day. Shivering, she grabbed her hoodie that was on the back of one of the kitchen chairs and pulled it on.
Olivia tipped some coffee into the cafetière and filled the kettle. While she waited for the water to boil, she stretched her arms up, certainly feeling the toll all this extra exercise was taking on her body. It was just as well she was so active, as living with Kitty was like having your own in-house baker. She had been whipping up cakes, scones, brownies, traybakes and artfully stacking them or positioning them onto the beautiful stoneware plates in the cottage, before dusting them with icing sugar and then taking some footage and shots for her Instagram reels. She always kept a few aside for Olivia, and then she’d box them up and insist that Olivia take them down to rehearsals and share them with the kids. That was probably what had made her so popular, she thought wryly. Part of the reason they greeted her so excitedly each time was that they couldn’t wait to see what was in her Tupperware boxes.
She popped in her earbuds, glad she had packed her old MP3 player. The kids seemed to like her music choices too. They had three minutes to do one dance, and she had suggested they do a medley, or a ‘mash-up’ as they preferred to say. They weren’t shy about correcting her Americanisms and replacing them with some more local words that, thanks to the carefultutelage of Granny Margaret, Isobel and Bella in Italy, she was already familiar with. She had quite the repertoire now with words such as ‘bawbag’, ‘eejit’, ‘numpty’ and ‘bampot’, which were alternative words for an idiot; ‘bolt ya rocket’, which meant ‘please go away’; and her favourite ‘scunnered’, which meant ‘fed up’. Her attempts to say ‘loch’ properly were a great source of amusement, as was the way she referred to trousers as ‘pants’. That had caused a lot of sniggering.
When it came to sharing the music options for their dance with them, she was fully prepared for their mockery. But they actually surprised her when they’d chosen the medley on her MP3 player that was a favourite of hers, with Justin Timberlake, Janet Jackson, Beyoncé and Missy Elliot. She had shown them a suggested routine — a mix of commercial and street dance — which they’d been excited about and keen to get started on straightaway. Given there was still a few weeks to go until the competition, she was very impressed. The group was a mixture of ages from eight to fifteen, with ten girls and five boys, and they were a brilliant team, all supporting each other, even when Olivia knew they were tired and feeling a bit ‘scunnered’ if they couldn’t quite master the moves immediately.
She looked out the window, staring at the dark sky, and then caught sight of someone behind her, wearing a hood, in the reflection of the window. She yelped and spun round, her heart beating fast until she realised who it was.
