Page 5 of A New Arrival at Cwtch Cove

Once she’d thrown on a pair of jogging bottoms and a T-shirt, she hurried down to the kitchen and opened the back door. The cats had a flap in the door so they could go outside when her mum was at work and if they needed to go out during the night. Alice knew that her mum had doubted the wisdom of the flap over the years when Clawdia and Catmila brought small furries home and let them loose in the cottage, but she had never closed it up. She said that the cats needed to be able to come and go as they pleased and so she tolerated thegiftsthey brought her and the occasional strange cat visiting to have a nose around.

In the garden, Alice approached the cats slowly, not wanting them to grab whatever they were playing with and run off, but when she got closer, she laughed.

‘Mum is going to be mad at you two,’ she said and the cats both turned at the sound of her voice.

Clawdia suddenly feigned disinterest in playing and trotted over to Alice and rubbed against her legs, wrapping her tail around them and purring as she nudged Alice with her small head. Alice bent down and picked the cat up and the purring grew louder as Clawdia pressed her head against Alice’s chin. It was tickly and comforting and Alice held the cat close, planting a kiss on her soft head.

As if debating what was the best course of action, Catmila sat on the grass and looked from the object she’d been toying with to Alice then back again. Then she stood and walked over to Alice and started to circle her legs in the way Clawdia had just moments ago. It was like they’d both decided to act as if they’d had nothing to do with the crime of theft.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of the evidence.’ Alice set Clawdia down then walked over the grass and picked up the ball of bread dough that the cats had somehow stolen. Alice suspected that her mum had left it on the kitchen table in a bowl covered with a towel, and the cats had found it and decided to take it outside. It wasn’t the first time that Clawdia and Catmila had stolen food from the kitchen but now they were older, Alice thought her mum probably didn’t expect this kind of behaviour. Although it was also possible that her mum had been distracted and forgotten to put the bowl in a safe place when she went to work. ‘At least she can get some bread from work to replace this.’

Alice placed the dough in a food waste bag in the kitchen then washed her hands. Clawdia and Catmila sat near the door watching her as if wondering what she was going to do next.

‘I’d forgotten what it was like to have a constant audience,’ Alice said and the cats blinked at her. ‘It’s been kind of lonely living on my own. I missed you girls.’

And she had. Her small furnished rental flat had felt empty even when she turned the TV up loud and turned all the lights on. Her mum’s cottage was completely different, cosy and homely and filled with light and warmth. From the colourful lounge with its yellow walls, open fireplace, squishy sofas covered with patchwork quilts, and numerous photographs, to the kitchen diner with its apron fronted sink and Aga, windows and door that overlooked the pretty garden, the cottage was a place of love and joy. It really was a place she could call home.

Alice blinked as her eyes stung. Perhaps this was why she hadn’t come home for so long. Being here was nice, comforting, and she’d suspected that if she came home, she might not want to go back to Exeter again. Not that Exeter wasn’t lovely, but her life there had been very different. The rental flat was, well, beige from the walls to the carpets to the bathroom suite. It overlooked a busy road and there was a man living in the flat above who liked to walk around at all hours of the night so Alice often found herself burying her head beneath a pillow as she tried to sleep. And sleep had not come easily to her for a long time as she thought about work, her lack of a love life, what exactly she was doing and where she was going. Her university friends had all gone home after graduating or jetted off to work in different countries, Australia had been a popular choice, and the friends she’d had left had all started to settle down, getting engaged, married and having babies. Sure, she was only twenty-eight but she’d never foundthe onethat others spoke about and while she wasn’t in any rush, she did wonder if it would ever happen. She also knew that she was, possibly, holding back and finding reasons not to fall for anyone. After all, she always found something wrong with them from a stray nose hair they hadn’t clipped to a penchant for eating with their mouth open to humming while they read to having ugly feet. All basically petty reasons to stop seeing someone but for Alice, they were reasons she gave herself to avoid seeing men more than a few times. It was how she protected herself and she couldn’t imagine falling for someone because surely every man she dated would have something wrong with him? She’d seen her mum suffer so much pain when she lost her husband and never wanted to go through that herself.

‘I’m a bit peckish,’ she said to the cats. ‘I think I’ll make some breakfast. What can I have?’

Clawdia and Catmila tilted their heads as they stared at her and she giggled. ‘Not cat food that’s for sure.’

She picked up the kettle to fill it but a knock at the front door made her stop what she was doing. She went through the hallway and opened the front door.

The figure there towered over her, the sunlight behind him making him seem to glow around the edges and she had to shield her eyes to see him better.

‘Oh! Good morning,’ she said as she recognised the man from her mum’s bakery.

‘Morning.’ His voice was deep and he smelt good, like cardamom and cedar, spicy and clean. He looked good too, she thought, in a pale blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up exposing muscular forearms, the top button undone revealing a triangle of golden hair the same shade as the hair on his head and beard. He held up a paper bag. ‘Your mum asked me to bring these over for you. She said you’d probably be awake now.’

Alice opened her mouth to reply but no words would come.

Quick! Respond! Say something, dummy!

‘She… she left very early.’

‘She always gets to work early.’ He offered her the bag. ‘You want these?’

‘What’s in it?’ She asked as she accepted the bag instantly regretting the question because it felt rude. As he handed it over, their fingers brushed and a tremor of something rippled through Alice’s body. She gasped as she met Henry’s gaze and his eyes widened as if he’d felt it too.

‘Some… pastries. They’re freshly made.’ He cleared his throat. Blinked.

‘Did you make them?’Does it matter?

He nodded. ‘Try them. The croissants are the lightest and crumbliest you’ll ever taste.’ He raised a hand and brushed a finger over his lips. ‘The pastry will melt on your tongue. I made the strawberry jam in the tart myself and it’s sweet and fragrant, the taste of summer. Plus, I put a chocolate éclair in. The fresh cream is locally sourced and it’s so good you’ll be craving more as soon as you swallow the last bite.’

Alice swayed on the spot as if hypnotised. Her mouth was watering from the descriptions of the food and to top it all off, this man was gorgeous. How hadn’t she noticed the previous day when she’d met him? There was something about him that made her think of Vikings; tall, strong and masculine in a way that made her whole body tingle. And now he was talking about food and for some strange reason it was making her think about sex. And she hadn’t had sex in a while and the last time had been a mistake… She shuddered at the memory. It was a memory thankfully clouded by alcohol and not a vivid one that she had to endure in technicolour. It actually felt more like a dream and when she’d spoken to Tarquin about it, he’d agreed then blushed bright red and apologised for being so drunk all over again. Alice had blushed too and apologised back and they’d ended up laughing like the idiots they were.

‘You… You should work in sales,’ she said to him, licking her lips.

‘So your mum says.’ He chuckled and the sound seemed to rumble through Alice, teasing parts of her that she’d thought shut down a long time ago. ‘And I kind of do because, you know, I sell baked goods at the shop.’

‘Of course. D-do you… want to come inside?’ she asked, wondering if he delivered pastries to other villagers and if he did, how many of the locals invited him in, wanting more than a tasty, sweet treat.

He shook his head. ‘I need to get back to work. Your mum was busy so she asked if I’d bring these over.’

Suddenly, he reached out and touched her hair. It sent shivers of delight down her spine. When he brought his hand back, he was frowning. ‘You had this in your hair.’ He held out his finger and she laughed.

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