Page 138 of Hold On

Epilogue

Several months later

Life was good. Ren had a job. Dominic had a job. They had a place to live—above their business based in Greenwich—and best of all, no one was trying to kill them. At the moment. Ren mentally crossed his fingers. To put the icing on the cake, it was a Saturday so they had two days of doing what they wanted, when they wanted, however they wanted to do it, unless there was an emergency they had to deal with. And Ren actually wanted to put icing on a cake. After he’d made one. They had something to celebrate. Two things. Well, probably more than two. Every time he looked at Dominic, Ren felt he had something to celebrate.

So…the cake.

“How hard can it be?” Ren asked.

Dominic looked around the kitchen with his eyebrows raised and Ren had to acknowledge he had a point. Every surface was covered in a thin layer of flour as if the gentlest of snow flurries had swept through. Though actually caused when Ren had tipped up the bag of flour—self-raising, he had that part right—into the bowl on the scales and instead of a gentle outpouring, it had surged out like an avalanche and tipped up the bowl. Decanting it back into the bag had deposited more flour everywhere. And he meanteverywhere!

He had containers holding various ingredients all over the work surface, with a few extra ones they didn’t need because Ren had accidentally moved to the next page on the iPad. He had wondered about a teaspoon of garam masala and the crushed garlic clove. Still, it had made Dominic laugh.

“I can’t understand why I’ve never baked a cake before.”

“Neither can I.” Dominic started to wipe down the work surface.

“Was that sarcasm?” Ren came up behind him and pushed him against the sink, sliding his floury hands around Dominic’s waist and pressing his face into his back. “You know what I do if you’re sarcastic. So, was it?”

Dominic twisted round with a no-way-am-I-innocent look on his face. “I really can’t understand why you’ve never baked a cake before.”

“Mum said this recipe is infallible.”

“Did she add anything after that?”

“Such as?”

“As long as you measure everything carefully and follow the instructions and your name isn’t Ren?”

“Oh ye of little faith. Beat the eggs and sugar.” Ren handed him two bowls and a hand whisk.

“How long and how hard?”

“Until they scream. Obviously.”

It was Ren who screamed eventually, after he realised he’d misread the instructions and it was the butter and sugar that should have been whisked.Oh well.By the time he’d tipped everything into a large bowl and stirred it, the mixture tasted good so he split it between two tins and put them in the oven, which he had remembered to turn on. Thanks to Dominic.

“Timer on,” Ren said. “Now we can relax. Well for twenty minutes.”

“After we’ve cleaned up. Are you going to tell me what this is about?”

“Not yet.”

Ren began to lick out the bowl and wasyummingandummingwhen he noticed how Dominic was staring at him.

“Have you never had cake mixture?”

“No.”

Ren wrapped his arm protectively around the bowl. “It’s horrible. You won’t like it.”

Dominic held out his hand and Ren backed away. “Trust me. It’s revolting.”

Dominic dropped his hand. “Okay. If you say so.”

“You’re impossible.” Ren swiped another finger through the mixture, then handed the bowl to Dominic.

Dominic tasted it and his eyes widened. “Is it too late to take the cakes out of the oven and eat them with a spoon?”

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