Page 49 of Cupcakes and Kisses in Micklewick Bay

‘Blimey, talk about a load of coincidences,’ said Heather. ‘What other properties have you snapped up, Max?’

He was prevented from answering when a loud shriek pierced the air followed by Chloe shouting, ‘Mummy! Mummy!’

Jasmine leapt to her feet and rushed over to her daughter who was holding her hand out, tears streaming down her cheeks. Zak and Connor looked on in concern.

‘Oh, goodness me!’ Heather’s hand went to her chest. ‘Whatever’s happened?’ She pushed herself up and began making her way over to her granddaughter.

‘What’s up, Chlo?’ her brother asked.

‘It’s hurting, Mummy! Make it stop!’ she sobbed.

‘What’s happened, lovey?’ Jasmine examined Chloe’s rapidly reddening finger. Closer inspection revealed a bee sting protruding from the side of her finger. ‘Oh, little love.’ She turned to her mum. ‘Can you bring some tweezers? Chloe’s been stung.’

The revelation made Chloe howl even louder.

‘I’ll grab the medical box.’ Steve rushed into the kitchen and pulled the tub from the cupboard.

‘Is she okay? Is there anything I can do?’ Max was beside Jasmine in a flash, his expression soft with concern. His arm brushed against hers, the soft hairs sending a tingle rushing over her skin. She stole a look up at him, to see a pair of gentle eyes looking back at her, triggering a flutter in her stomach.

Once the drama of the bee sting and Chloe’s finger had subsided and the little girl’s smiles had returned, the boys had declared themselves to be “absolutely starving”. Steve added more fuel to the barbecue and before long the smoky aroma of grilled sausages and burgers was wafting around the garden.

Beckoned over by his son, Max joined the kids to show off his “keepy-uppy” skills with a football, which didn’t look easy with Ernest trying to get the ball. ‘Your Uncle Jonathan taught me how to do this when I was a little lad,’ Max said. The information seemed to go down well with all the children.

Jasmine observed Max’s easy relationship with his son, so far removed from the one he’d had with his own father. She wondered what had happened to Bazza Grainger. No one hadheard anything of him after he went to prison. Max had done well not to absorb even the slightest trace of his father’s toxic personality, nor display any bitterness or resentment as a consequence of his unhappy childhood, and being failed by both parents. But then, he always did have a positive outlook, even at a young age.

Moving on from “keepy-uppy”, the children had talked Max into joining them taking shots at the basketball hoop on the side wall of the house. Little Chloe hadn’t managed to score once on account of being so small. Sensing her disappointment, Max had lifted her onto his shoulders and bounded towards the hoop so she could drop the ball through it. Chloe’s squeals of laughter had bounced around the garden along with Ernest who was having enormous fun.

‘Oi, that’s cheating,’ called Steve, laughter in his voice.

Setting Chloe down, Max flopped onto the grass. ‘I’m exhausted,’ he said, stretching out and throwing his arms wide. In a matter of seconds, the three children had piled on top of him, laughing as Max jokingly shouted for help. Ernest joined the fun, rolling on the ground beside them, his legs kicking out every which way. Heather and Jasmine were laughing so hard, tears were rolling down their cheeks.

When the hilarity had finally calmed down, Jasmine sat back in her seat, savouring the warmth and surprising herself with how she’d been able to relax – bee sting drama aside. Usually, her mind would be full of everything she needed to do, reminding herself to be sure she transferred those thoughts to her “to-do” list. If she’d been at home, she’d have been feeding clothes into the washing machine, catching up on housework, changing the beds, ironing uniforms and working on her latest cake, whether it be sketching out a design, crafting elements or baking the cake itself. Every minute was usually spoken for. But today, after all that had gone on over the last week, she’d listenedto her body and allowed herself to relax. Her gaze went to Max, who was now chatting to Connor and Zak about the Micklewick Lions. A thought floated into her mind, and she found herself asking if she’d have been quite so willing to switch off like this if Max hadn’t been there. She pulled herself up sharp, hastily telling herself she didn’t want to know the answer to that. Why was she even thinking it?

‘Have you sampled the delights of The Cellar yet, Max? It’s a micro-brewery in town. It’s very popular.’ Her dad’s voice cut through Jasmine’s thoughts.

‘Not yet, but I must admit it looks very appealing. The signage is great; grabs your interest straight away.’

‘You should get our Jasmine to take you there,’ said Heather, oblivious to the stern look coming from her daughter’s direction.

‘I’d like that.’ Max switched his gaze to Jasmine who quickly changed her expression. ‘It’d give you a chance to tell me what you’ve been up to since I left. I feel I’ve dominated the conversation so far.’

‘Give over, lad, we were all keen to know what had happened to you. It’s been awful not knowing all these years.’

Jasmine went to speak, but Heather jumped in. ‘Tell you what, why don’t the pair of you have a wander down there now? Your dad and me’ll look after the kids, if you’re okay with that, Max?’

‘I’m good with that, as long as you’re sure,’ said Max.

‘’Course I’m sure. We’ve stocked the freezer with ice creams for them.’ She turned to Jasmine. ‘And before you say it, I’ll slather a load of sunblock on them.’

‘Cool! Ice cream! Have you got any of those with raspberry sauce, Grandma? They’re my absolute favourites,’ said Zak.

‘Mine too,’ said Connor, matching Zak’s enthusiasm.

‘Sure do, lads.’ She directed her gaze at Jasmine, hitching her eyebrows at her daughter. ‘Well? Are you going to take your dad and me up on our offer, or not?’

‘I… um…’ Her mum’s suggestion had taken Jasmine completely by surprise but the hopeful look in Max’s eyes pulled at her insides. After hearing what he’d been through, there was no way she could refuse. ‘Okay, why not?’

TWENTY-THREE

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