“Will said it was a writer’s conference?”
“Men. They never listen do they.” My cheeks were getting hot again. “It was politely suggested to me the other day that I could learn a few things from other professional bakers.”
“ Other professional bakers?” Martha’s hand shot out, her fingers wrapping themselves around my wrist, “Kate, what’s going on?”
So over tea and chocolate biscuits I told Martha almost everything. Will’s sexuality; the link between that problem and my recent dreams; and Frank.
Martha took a deep breath. “Bloody hell. Are you sure about Will? He doesn’t really strike me as gay.”
I shrugged, “all I know is what I saw that night. It did look pretty damning.”
“I suppose it’s too early for a stiff drink?”
I smiled wryly and checked my watch, “it’s only ten thirty and, to be honest, I’m not in the mood.”
“Not sleeping well?”
“Not really.” I rubbed my eyes.
Martha jumped to her feet, “I’m sorry, Kate. I’ll go. You get some rest.”
“Don’t go!” My eyes were begging, I could feel it. “I don’t need rest, I just need to talk.”
Martha sat back down, “Kate, why did you lie to Will about where you went that day?”
“There’s no fooling you, is there.” I sat back in my chair, “because of who I went with.”
Martha groaned.
“It was just a day out at a cookery demonstration, not a hot date.” I could hear my defensiveness and made a conscious effort to tone it down.
“But, you spent the night with him, Kate.”
Frustrated, I took a bite of my chocolate biscuit, scattering crumbs everywhere.
Martha gasped loudly in horror, “oh, Kate, no wonder you don’t want to be pregnant. That night with Frank would have been around the same time you and Will –”
“Why on earth do you assume I slept with Frank? Just because we got stuck in a motel together, doesn’t mean we had sex.”
“So you didn’t share a room?”
I faltered, “well, yes we did –”
“Oh?”
“—but he slept on the floor. We didn’t have a choice; there was only one room left. It was either share that or sleep in the car. He said he’d sleep on the floor and he did. And I’m glad he did. He’s a bastard.”
Martha didn’t know what to say, “okay, now you’ve lost me, I thought he was your new best friend? Did he … try to force you, or something?”
I licked my lips, “no, nothing like that. He did kiss me but –”
“Kiss you?”
“—but it was just a little one and it didn’t mean anything. Anyway, that was before.”
Martha waited but I couldn’t go on.
“Before what?”
I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t tell her the whole unadulterated truth.
Good use of the word adultery there.
“Before he told me he’d killed his baby.”
Chapter ten
15 October
Eyes closed, shaking fingers wrapped tightly around my steaming brew, my mind’s eye could still see the roadside diner, the rain pounding on the window, the motel room with just one relatively clean bed.
And I could still see Frank.
“What happened next?” Martha urged. Opening my eyes, I continued my story.
“When I woke in the morning, Frank was already dressed. “‘Wakey, wakey sleepy-head’, that’s what he said. Wakey, wakey —”
*
“—sleepy-head.”
Frank was grinning, a tray full to over-flowing with bacon, eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms and toast clutched in his hands. I rubbed my eyes and yawned.
“That smells wonderful.” I sat up against my pillows and Frank lowered the tray onto my lap before sitting on the bed beside me sipping a coffee.
“They assured me it was edible and I’m inclined to believe them. Then again, anything would look good to me this morning. After last night I’m starving.”
I laughed, “that goes double for me.” I grabbed a rasher of crispy bacon and stuffed it into my mouth.
As we ate, I surreptitiously studied Frank. He had ultimately turned out to be the perfect gentleman. Kind, considerate, sexy,
“Men. They never listen do they.” My cheeks were getting hot again. “It was politely suggested to me the other day that I could learn a few things from other professional bakers.”
“ Other professional bakers?” Martha’s hand shot out, her fingers wrapping themselves around my wrist, “Kate, what’s going on?”
So over tea and chocolate biscuits I told Martha almost everything. Will’s sexuality; the link between that problem and my recent dreams; and Frank.
Martha took a deep breath. “Bloody hell. Are you sure about Will? He doesn’t really strike me as gay.”
I shrugged, “all I know is what I saw that night. It did look pretty damning.”
“I suppose it’s too early for a stiff drink?”
I smiled wryly and checked my watch, “it’s only ten thirty and, to be honest, I’m not in the mood.”
“Not sleeping well?”
“Not really.” I rubbed my eyes.
Martha jumped to her feet, “I’m sorry, Kate. I’ll go. You get some rest.”
“Don’t go!” My eyes were begging, I could feel it. “I don’t need rest, I just need to talk.”
Martha sat back down, “Kate, why did you lie to Will about where you went that day?”
“There’s no fooling you, is there.” I sat back in my chair, “because of who I went with.”
Martha groaned.
“It was just a day out at a cookery demonstration, not a hot date.” I could hear my defensiveness and made a conscious effort to tone it down.
“But, you spent the night with him, Kate.”
Frustrated, I took a bite of my chocolate biscuit, scattering crumbs everywhere.
Martha gasped loudly in horror, “oh, Kate, no wonder you don’t want to be pregnant. That night with Frank would have been around the same time you and Will –”
“Why on earth do you assume I slept with Frank? Just because we got stuck in a motel together, doesn’t mean we had sex.”
“So you didn’t share a room?”
I faltered, “well, yes we did –”
“Oh?”
“—but he slept on the floor. We didn’t have a choice; there was only one room left. It was either share that or sleep in the car. He said he’d sleep on the floor and he did. And I’m glad he did. He’s a bastard.”
Martha didn’t know what to say, “okay, now you’ve lost me, I thought he was your new best friend? Did he … try to force you, or something?”
I licked my lips, “no, nothing like that. He did kiss me but –”
“Kiss you?”
“—but it was just a little one and it didn’t mean anything. Anyway, that was before.”
Martha waited but I couldn’t go on.
“Before what?”
I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t tell her the whole unadulterated truth.
Good use of the word adultery there.
“Before he told me he’d killed his baby.”
Chapter ten
15 October
Eyes closed, shaking fingers wrapped tightly around my steaming brew, my mind’s eye could still see the roadside diner, the rain pounding on the window, the motel room with just one relatively clean bed.
And I could still see Frank.
“What happened next?” Martha urged. Opening my eyes, I continued my story.
“When I woke in the morning, Frank was already dressed. “‘Wakey, wakey sleepy-head’, that’s what he said. Wakey, wakey —”
*
“—sleepy-head.”
Frank was grinning, a tray full to over-flowing with bacon, eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms and toast clutched in his hands. I rubbed my eyes and yawned.
“That smells wonderful.” I sat up against my pillows and Frank lowered the tray onto my lap before sitting on the bed beside me sipping a coffee.
“They assured me it was edible and I’m inclined to believe them. Then again, anything would look good to me this morning. After last night I’m starving.”
I laughed, “that goes double for me.” I grabbed a rasher of crispy bacon and stuffed it into my mouth.
As we ate, I surreptitiously studied Frank. He had ultimately turned out to be the perfect gentleman. Kind, considerate, sexy,
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