Page 44 of The Midnight Bakery
‘Plus, you also have me now, don’t forget,’ he added. ‘I’ll make sure you don’t get led astray.’
She smiled at his easy assumption that he would be there for her. She felt safe, she realised, and she hadn’t felt that in a long while.
They’d been in the bakery half an hour or so by then, and leaving the sanctuary of William’s flat had taken nearly all of Frankie’s resolve. But William had walked with her, step by step, until they reached the door. Even then, it had taken a reassuring touch on her arm before she could step over the threshold. William relocked the door, checking both the street outside and the alley before taking up a stance in the middle of the room while she read the letter. If Robert had wanted to see her reaction when she read it, he would be in for a big surprise.
‘So, what do I do?’ asked Frankie. ‘Do you think I should meet him?’
William nodded. ‘Yes, because youdoneed to sever ties, legally and irrevocably. But you do so on your terms. Meet him when you want, where you want, and trust me when I say you’llbe okay.’ She fidgeted under the intensity of his gaze. ‘Doyou trust me?’ he asked.
Did she? The question had never even entered her head, but her actions seemed to suggest that she did. She had acted on instinct, and if the last two years had taught her anything, it was that the one person shecouldtrust was herself. She nodded, uncertain of this new feeling within herself – allowing herself to be vulnerable in the presence of another – but, she reminded herself, she had to do this if she was to have any kind of meaning in her life.
‘Look at me,’ William added, ‘and tell me what you see.’
She blushed, knowing that what she had first seen when she met William was certainly not what she saw now.
As if reading her thoughts, he laughed. ‘And don’t be polite. First impressions, go on…’
She pursed her lips. ‘What I actually thought, which is extremely ironic under the circumstances, was that I wouldn’t like to meet you down a dark alley.’
William was still amused. ‘Thought so. And I’m hoping that Robert will be no different. I’m fifty-two. I’ve had a life, Frankie, and I’ve done things I’m not especially proud of. So, although I wouldn’t hurt a flynow, it wasn’t always the case. Andthatis what people see when they look at me. They see my height and my build, and they see capability.’ He smirked. ‘Robert won’t try anything while I’m around.’
She nodded. But even though it seemed one problem might now have a solution, she had another quite pressing one to deal with. She looked at her watch and groaned.
‘I’m in so much trouble,’ she said. ‘It’s nearly one o’clock and I’m way behind where I should be. I should have called my boss to let her know what was going on, but…’ She lowered her eyes. ‘I needed this job, William, so I wasn’t exactly truthful about my past. Vivienne has no idea about Robert, about any of it.’
‘She knows you’re a damn good baker, and that’s all she needs to know.’
‘But what am I going to tell her when I can’t open the shop tomorrow because there’s hardly any bread to sell? I need her to recommend me to any prospective buyers, not tell them I’m a useless liability.’
‘You’re hardly that. When have you ever let her down before? And you’re not going to let her down now either. There are two of us here tonight, and believe me, I’m very used to taking instruction. Tell me what to do and I’ll help.’
‘But I can’t ask you to do that. You’ll be up all night.’
‘I would have been up a considerable part of it anyway. I told you, I don’t sleep all that well. Besides, I’m not leaving you here on your own, so you might as well put me to good use.’
Frankie thought quickly. Was it possible?CouldWilliam help her? If she concentrated on the items which were ready to be baked, then it might work. Whether they would have enough time to prepare the various doughs ready for the next day was a different matter, but she would worry about that later. ‘Okay, let’s make a start,’ she said. ‘And see what’s what.’
It was something she did every night, several times a night and so, as she had on every other occasion, Frankie gave no thought to opening one of the fridges, sliding forward the huge tub of dough and hefting it from the shelf with a practised pull.
The cry left her lips before she could stop it, pain searing its way up her arm, leaving a vapour trail in its wake which burned its way back down to her wrist. The tub lurched sideways, and she fought to control it, but with only one hand, it was an impossibility, and she twisted her hip and knees to catch it on the way down. It was almost on the floor before two strong hands appeared beneath it and lowered it gently the rest of the way. They lowered her gently to the floor as well, cradling herarm as she cradled her wrist, tears running freely down her cheeks. She let them fall.
The shock of the sudden pain had brought them, together with the burning embarrassment of her vulnerability but, as she let herself lean into William’s solid bulk, it was also the realisation that it was okay to cry. That, this time, there was someone to catch her when she fell.
If she had cried before at the relief of reaching a place of safety, at the tumult of thoughts which had assailed her as she fled from Robert’s presence, this time she cried for all the times she’d been unable to, the times when she’d put on a brave face, the times when she had denied herself her true feelings, and the years she had lost. But mostly, she cried for the young woman who had set out on her life with such hope, such faith for the future, and had lostherself.
Eventually, for the second time in as many hours, she pulled away from William’s arms, only slower this time, as new thoughts rushed around her head. The realisation that this man, whom she barely knew, had rekindled the faith and hope she once held. But, more than that, in doing so he had shown her the woman she could be, the one who still believed in friendship, in kindness, and who didn’t push people away, but who instead could draw them to her. It was a heady sensation.
It took a lot of courage to meet William’s eyes, but when she did, she was surprised to see her own shyness and a certain awkwardness reflected back. And, as the corners of his mouth began to curve upwards, there was humour there, too.
‘I’m too old to be sitting on the floor,’ she said, smiling, aware that her knees were now joining in the protest so brilliantly led by her wrist.
William groaned. ‘I’m not sure I can feel my feet,’ he said, wincing as he extricated them from under him and stretched out both legs.
Laughing, they helped one another to stand, grimacing at their stiff limbs and, in William’s case, a bad bout of pins and needles. It was several minutes before they were able to face one another again.
‘And before you say it, there’s really no need to apologise,’ said William, turning his attention to her wrist. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?’
‘I slipped over…I didn’t think…’ She screwed up her face as she very slowly tried to rotate her wrist. She stopped almost immediately.
