Page 68 of The Cornish Cream Tea Bookshop
‘Books.’ It was uncharacteristic of Liam to be so short with her.
‘I can see that,’ she’d said softly. ‘What are you doing with them?’
‘These ones serve no purpose. They’re going to the Oxfam in Truro.’
‘What are they?’
‘Just silly stories. They’re decades old, out of print and irrelevant. Don’t concern yourself with them. Tell me what you and Max have been up to.’
Ollie had smiled stupidly. ‘There’s not much I can say without going into details I’m not inclined to share, and I’m certain you don’t want to hear.’
‘That good, eh? He’s a decent young man, that Max. Not had an easy trot of it, but that makes you appreciate the good parts even more, doesn’t it?’
‘It does,’ Ollie had agreed. She had thought back to the night before, when they’d stripped each other’s clothes off and made it to her bedroom, and she’d hesitated, her hand against Max’s chest.
‘What is it?’ he’d asked. ‘If you want to stop, if you’ve changed your mind, then we can—’
‘It’s not that at all,’ she’d rushed. ‘Just … is this OK? Can you, after your illness—’
He’d placed one hand over hers where it rested on his hot skin, over his heart, and tipped her chin up, making sure she was meeting his gaze. ‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘I promise. I will let you know if I need to stop, or go slow, but I can’t see that happening unless it’s to make this better between us. You don’t need to worry, OK?’ He’d pressed a kiss to herforehead, and Ollie had felt her admiration for him, her attraction to him, swell inside her, as if her own heart was expanding now that she’d let him into it.
Max, she’d realised, as she typed up a particularly emotional part of Liam’s memoir, about his grandfather dying and the grief that had snuck up on him unexpectedly, lived life to the full. He was always positive, as if each day he got to welcome in and see out was a bonus. She could learn so much from him, and thought that everyone should behave that way: celebrating every joyful thing, however tiny, because nobody knew what was around the corner.
When Max had got back from town, Liam had invited him in, and the three of them had sat around his farmhouse table, eating chunks of cheese on crusty bread and drinking a red wine that he’d produced from his wine cellar, and which he told them was a rare vintage.
On Sunday, Ollie and Max had lived in a cocoon. The Yule log was still burning in the fireplace, so, he had informed her, they weren’t allowed to do anything but spend time together. So that’s what they had done, eventually taking Henry for a walk in the fields surrounding the farm, even the cold, persistent drizzle unable to burst their contented bubble.
So when Monday came around, the realisation that they had to get up, leave the barn and go into work, was a shock.
‘Are you coming back here tonight?’ Ollie asked, kissing Max’s shoulder.
‘If you want me to.’ He rolled over so he was facing her, and rubbed his eyes.
‘I very much do.’
‘I’d better check on Oxo, but I’ll do that this morning when I go home to change.’
‘Perfecto. And then we can—’
She was interrupted by her phone blaring noisily from the bedside table. She turned, fumbling to pick it up. The alarm clock told her that it was just after seven.
‘Hello?’ she said, feeling a spike of fear that something had happened to one of her parents, or Melissa in Portugal.
‘Ollie? It’s Arabella March, Sophia Forsythe-Hartley’s editor. I wondered if you had time to go through a couple of details about the event with me?’
Ollie gave Max an exasperated look. He parried it with a grin, then began tracing lazy circles on her hip with his finger.
‘O-of course,’ she said. She glared at Max, but he just made his touch more ticklish. ‘What is it you’d like to check?’
‘There are a few risk assessment concerns that Sophia and I have, but it shouldn’t be a problem to clear those upat all.Just best to nip them in the bud now, before the event.’
‘Risk assessments?’ This time she and Max swapped perplexed frowns. ‘Of course. I’m at home right now, so if you could email me a list, I can look into it as soon as I’m with Thea at the bookshop. I can get back to you before lunch, as long as I don’t need to chase down any more details to answer your questions.’
‘Fabulous! I’ll get those through to you right now.’
‘Great! Thanks. Good to speak to you, Arabella.’
‘You too, darling. Bye for now.’
