Page 60 of The Midnight Bakery
‘Humour me,’ said William. ‘I’m just interested, that’s all.’
Frankie held his look for a moment before pushing back her chair and getting to her feet. ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ she said. ‘And then I’ll get you something to eat, Tam.’
‘Go on,’ said William. ‘I really want to know.’
Tam grinned. ‘And me.’
Frankie was on her way to the sink, but she stopped, half turning. Thinking better of it, she turned back, but then spun around, this time looking directly at Tam.
‘You know the very first time we met you told me that the worst thing about being homeless is that there’s nowhere to go at night? How alone it feels? Well, that’s what I’d do,’ she said. ‘I’d open up this place. I’d make the night a little less closed.’
30
William
Ever since leaving Frankie that morning, William had been in an agony of indecision for most of the day. First of all, there’d been that moment on her doorstep when he’d come so close to kissing her. An action which, had he gone through with it, would most likely have destroyed any chance of their fledgling friendship continuing as it had. And yet, there had been something, he’d been certain of it. Something which danced in the air between them and…Or perhaps it was simply that he wished there was. Which, after all this time, was a problem.
Because William was a bad bet. He hadn’t meant to, and maybe it was just that he hadn’t responded all that well to the blows life had dealt him, but, all the same, he’d let down everyone who ever meant anything to him. And he didn’t want that for Frankie. Couldn’t bear the thought of it. When he was younger, it was easy to tell himself that grief was to blame for his actions. That he hadn’t been himself, hadn’t been thinking straight, and maybe that was true, ithadbeen hard to come to terms with, but he wasn’t a kid now and no longer had anyexcuse. Fifty-two years on the planet and he thought he’d be settled by now. Or at least feel the wisdom of his years. So what did he do now that he found himself thinking things might be different?
Finding out what he had at the library meant he was finally in a position where he might be able to make a difference, if not to keep his promise exactly, then at least to uphold the spirit of it. But taking that chance could spell disaster, and if things blew up in his face then he didn’t want Frankie anywhere near when it happened.
He stole another look at her, head bent, as she sat at the table and nursed another cup of tea. It was three in the morning and Tam had long since gone, but the conversation which had started while he was there had continued for a while afterwards. Listening to Frankie talk about all the things she would do if the bakery were hers had tugged at his heartstrings even harder, and he marvelled that this woman, who had been so afraid of life that she hid herself away from it, could be so caring and generous. She had also been very open and honest with William, something he had failed at miserably. Her past had literally caught up with her, and even though she was scared, she had allowed herself to be vulnerable before him.
She deserved so much better than William, that was the truth of it. And yet, what she’d said about having morals and principles had struck a chord with him. It was easy when you were wealthy, she’d said, and virtually impossible if you were not. She so clearly understood Tam’s dilemma, and the desire to do the right thing even when circumstances meant you couldn’t. So might it be possible she could understand his? Was now the time to be honest withher, just as she had with him? He sprinkled a little more flour on the worktable and turned out another batch of dough onto it.
William could see why Frankie liked it here, in the warmth of the bakery, alone with her thoughts every night. There was something comforting about the rhythmic kneading and shaping of the doughs, almost relaxing, despite the physicality of it. When he had made bread before, even though the steps he followed were essentially the same, he had never felt as if he were creating anything, never felt the magic of one of the oldest processes in the world. Here, it was different. Here, it was a magic he could touch, one which leapt from his own fingers. He found himself smiling despite the mess of confusion inside his head.
‘It gets you like that, doesn’t it?’ said Frankie, looking up at him. He could see she was tired, and possibly still in pain, but her look was warm, her eyes soft on his.
‘Sorry?’
Frankie indicated the dough he had been kneading. ‘I said it gets you like that. You look like you’re away with the fairies.’
William nudged his forearm against his nose to chase away an itch. ‘I think I was. You lose yourself in it, don’t you – the rhythm. It’s almost hypnotic.’
She smiled. ‘I’ve put right many a wrong since I’ve been here, standing just as you are now. I swear sometimes I’d get to morning and not even realise I’d made all the bread. It just sort of happened while my brain was off somewhere, doing its thing.’ She tipped her head to one side. ‘So, what’s your brain wrestling with?’
William shrugged. ‘Nothing much. Load of nonsense, probably.’
‘With that look on your face?’ she replied. ‘I don’t believe that for a minute. I’ve been watching you the last half hour, deep in some conundrum or other. Your eyebrows have been doing quite the dance.’
‘Have they? What were they doing, a waltz or a foxtrot?’
He expected her to laugh, to smile at least, but Frankie’s face remained curious. And watchful.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Out with it. I’ve spilled all my beans, time for you to offload yours. I know we said before about not knowing everything there was to know about each other, but I know virtually nothing about you. That doesn’t seem right somehow.’
‘How long have you got?’
But Frankie wasn’t buying into his attempt at levity. ‘Quite a few hours yet, as well you know. Plenty of time for some life history,andto tell me what’s got you so perturbed.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Are you worried about your job, about the thing with Stuart, is that it? Only I’ve seen that expression on your face a few times now – a kind of angry, yet sad, determination.’
Damn, she was perceptive, too. Inwardly, William groaned. It would be wonderful to tell her, to unburden himself and even ask her opinion about what he should do, but to do so would mean risking the one thing which had given him any hope for the future. He swallowed. She was still waiting for a reply, and given what she’d suffered in the past, she deserved some honesty. Besides, she was bound to find out in the end, and how much worse would it be to hear about that past from someone else? He took a deep breath, his hands stilling themselves on the dough.
‘I said before that I’ve had a life, done things I’m not especially proud of…Most of it started when I was in my early twenties. That was thirty-odd years ago, and sometimes I wonder how I could have been so stupid – but I was young, I guess. We all do stupid things when we’re young.’
‘That we do. And paying off that debt can take a very long time.’ She smiled. She understood. So far, at least…
‘I met my Louise when I was twenty-two, and straight off we both knew we had something special. Most of my friends were still being lads, most of her friends were unattached too, butsuddenly, within about the space of six months, we were making plans.’ William pulled at the ball of dough, turning it over and slapping it back down again.
