Page 16 of Only Ever You

Still, she couldn’t help thinking that despite the fact she knew the Phillips-Dumont family, it wasn’t well enough to spenddayswith them in their own home.

The bubbling kettle clicked off and vapour rushed from the spout. Faye fixed herself a hefty mug of chamomile tea, filled up her fleece-covered hot water bottle, donned pyjamas, and transplanted herself on her bed with the intention of not moving until tomorrow.

She hadn’t accounted for the fact that her phone might ring the second she’d taken the first soothing sip of tea. Her fingers searched above the bed covers, until she realised the ringing came from her purse … All of the way back in the kitchen.

Uttering something profane, Faye trudged to retrieve it.

“Ellie,” she said when she answered, albeit tiredly. “Hi.”

“There you are. I was about to call the police with you not picking up.”

“Sorry. I’d forgotten I’d left my phone in the kitchen.” A few times a week, her step-sister called to catch up, even if just for a few minutes. Always in the evenings when Faye was home from work and Ellie had gotten her toddler down for bed.

Her mother and El’s father had married after the fallout of their divorces when they were both still in primary school, with Ellie being two years older than her – both of them only-children of divorce. And all of a sudden she’d had a sibling. Asister.

“Are you okay?” Ellie asked. “You sound tired.”

Faye leant her bum against her kitchen table. “I’m just run off my feet. I could do with a massage.”

“You could do with taking a day off once in a while, Faye. These long hours every day aren’t good for your mind, nor your body.”

She’d heard this all before from her friends. “I wish I could.”

“You have other people working there don’t you? Why don’t you let them handle your least busy days?”

“I don’t know how to explain it, El, but Ihaveto be there.” Something would fail if she wasn’t.

“And what about when you open up your new bakery, hm?” Ellie doubled down on logic. “Or if you’re sick? You can’t be in two places at once, though I know you’d strain something trying to be.”

Faye’s new Christmas plans sprung up in her mind – plans she’d given in to so easily when Bash’s French-accented English had added new rasps to his voice and awoken something distracting within her.

“I want you to promise me that you’ll take some days off, Faye,” Ellie pressed.

“Yeah … about that …”

“Faye, spit it out. What’s wrong?”

She should’ve known Ellie would see right through her. After a long pause and a lot of wincing, Faye blurted, “Bash is taking me with him to his family’s house for Christmas.”

“What!” Ellie yapped like a seal piercingly enough to make Faye pull her phone away from her ear, then hushed herself as if she’d been reminded there was a two year old asleep. “Did you two finally get together and not tell me?”

“No. Bash knows I have no plans and he was just being nice. He invited me before I could refuse. Plus, my boiler is broken and I’m never going to be able to get it fixed over Christmas.”

“The last time I saw him, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.”

“That was at your wedding and he knew nobody else. It was more likely he was looking at me for reassurance.”

“Bash doesn’t seem like the type of guy who needs reassuring. From everything you tell me, he’s the whole package.”

Faye didn’t want to think about Bash’spackage. Not that she knew what he was like these days beneath his clothes, or anything …Oh, just stop it.

She clocked the dishes lined up beside her sink and her little baker’s heart reared its head and said:clean up,though all Faye wanted to do was fall into bed. If she left those pots now from her six a.m. breakfast, then she would just think about them all evening.

The only hot water she could get for the sink would have to come from her kettle, so she put her phone on speaker and filled it up again as she said, “Well, Bash never says it, but he’s more vulnerable than he lets on. He didn’t have a good time at school before moving to university, and I think it’s stuck with him.”

The noise of the kettle rattled so Faye brought her phone back to her ear and slipped into her bedroom.

“I notice how often he fusses to make sure his hair stays put,” she continued, “or how he shifts the front of his shirts. He’s nevershown me a photo of what he looked like back then but he looks amazing now. I wish he wouldn’t worry about those things.”

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