They both chuckled at Holly’s feeble pun.
‘Are you sure you’ll be all right?’ Jocelyn asked.
Holly stood up. ‘Of course I will. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Jocelyn rose from the table for a second time and gave Holly a bear hug. ‘You’ll be fine. You’re a strong woman. Stronger than I ever was.’
‘I doubt that. I’d be happy to have half your strength,’ Holly said. ‘You’re a very special lady.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ replied Jocelyn, wafting her out of the shop with a flutter of embarrassment. ‘And don’t think buttering up the boss means I’ll be taking it easy on you. I want you here at one o’clock sharp!’
As Holly left the teashop she was surprised to find she had a spring in her step. She practically sauntered back to the gatehouse with a sense of control she hadn’t felt in a long time. She had been strong once and she could be again. She wouldn’t drop her guard and she would get through this for her sake and for Tom’s.
That evening, Holly won her first battle with the moondial and ignored its persistent pull from beneath its makeshift shroud.
Holly clattered pots and pans as she raced around the kitchen trying to juggle over-boiled vegetables and burning roast potatoes. She had insisted on inviting Tom’s parents and Jocelyn around for Sunday lunch to welcome Tom home, but she was now seriously regretting the decision. It probably hadn’t been a good idea either to open a bottle of wine to give her Dutch courage.
‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like some help?’ Diane asked, peering around the kitchen door and doing her best not to show any visible signs of horror at the mess that Holly was in the process of creating.
‘No, I’ll be fine,’ insisted Holly as she dropped a tea towel over the scorch mark she’d made on the kitchen table. She had already confessed her mishap to Diane, who had taken it well.
Diane looked at the tea towel and was about to say something but thought better of it. Holly was in no mood to be soothed. ‘If you’re sure?’ she said, more as a question than a statement.
‘I’m sure,’ replied Holly through gritted teeth and with only the slightest hint of hysteria. ‘You get back in there with Tom. I’m sure there’s still plenty of catching up to do.’
‘All right then,’ Diane told her with an unconvincing smile. She still didn’t look like she was going anywhere but then the doorbell rang.
‘That’ll be Jocelyn,’ Holly gasped, looking around in panic and wondering how long she could leave the oven unattended before the whole kitchen imploded. Jocelyn hadn’t met Tom’s parents and she barely knew Tom. Holly would be a poor hostess if she didn’t do the introductions. She did a little jig in the middle of the kitchen as she went to go one way and then the other.
‘Are you all right? I can take over if you like while you get the door,’ Diane suggested with enthusiasm.
For a split second, Holly really was tempted to escape the kitchen with her opened bottle of wine and leave the cooking in more capable hands. There must be something Diane could salvage from the chaos, but she was going to have a hard job recreating perfectly formed sprouts from the green mush bubbling in a pan hidden at the back of the stove. ‘No, I’m the one who made this mess and I’m the one who has to cook my way out of it. Could you see to Jocelyn for me?’
‘If you’re sure,’ Diane conceded reluctantly. She backed out of the kitchen as if she was too scared to turn her back on the bubbling bedlam.
Two minutes later, Jocelyn popped her head around the door.
‘Diane said you’re determined to do this on your own, but …’ Jocelyn cast a wary look over the kitchen. ‘Are you sure you don’t want some help?’
‘I’m fine,’ Holly replied with a fixed grin that was starting to make her cheeks ache. It was difficult enough keeping track of the countless miniature disasters that were appearing by the minute without the constant battle of keeping out the good Samaritans. ‘I’m just sorry I can’t come out of here to do some proper introductions.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about us. Diane and Jack are lovely and I’m getting reacquainted with your gorgeous husband. You really shouldn’t leave me alone with him.’
‘I’ll trust you,’ smiled Holly. ‘Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got a dinner to bring back to life.’
‘You know where I am if you need me,’ Jocelyn told her as she too backed out of the kitchen. ‘And you might want to check the oven. I think I can smell burning,’ she shouted before disappearing from view.
Holly opened the oven door and a cloud of smoke hit her between the eyes. She was busily wafting the smoke out through the kitchen door when Tom appeared. ‘How’s it going?’ he asked.
Holly was just about to scream at him to get out of the kitchen but he had picked up her wine and was refilling her glass.
‘You look like you could do with a drink,’ he told her.
‘I really shouldn’t,’ she said, ‘but one more glass couldn’t do any harm. I think all the damage that could be done, has been done.’
‘It smells delicious,’ Tom said brightly. He was deliberately avoiding making eye contact with Holly or looking towards the billowing smoke coming from the oven.
‘You’re a big fat liar, but I love you for saying it. Is everyone all right in there?’
‘Yes, they’re getting on like a house on fire. Sorry, no pun intended.’ Holly hit him with a tea towel before letting him continue. ‘Jocelyn and my mum are chatting away like old friends.’
Holly knocked back the glass of wine and lifted up her empty glass for a refill.
Tom lifted up the wine bottle to show Holly that it was now empty.
‘There’s plenty more where that came from,’ she replied, tipping her head towards the fridge.
‘How long will dinner be?’ Tom asked tentatively. He was probably calculating if she could serve dinner before she was totally trashed.
‘By my guess, it was ready half an hour ago. It’s now over cooked and burnt.’
‘At least we don’t have to clear space in here and can eat in the conservatory,’ Tom commented. He braved a look at the kitchen table, which didn’t have an inch of spare space.
Holly took a deep breath to clear her head. ‘Oh, I give up,’ she said. ‘Give me a hand serving this up. Do you think I should stick a pizza in the oven just in case?’
‘It’ll be fine,’ Tom assured her.
The smell of fresh paint in the conservatory was quickly beaten into submission by the aroma of stewed vegetable with the faintest hint of burning. It was early afternoon but the day was already fading fast. At least the subdued lighting made the food look almost edible, thought Holly. They had borrowed a long table and chairs from the teashop to seat them all.
‘It’s lovely,’ smiled Jocelyn, taking her first mouthful of Holly’s roast dinner. Holly heard a distinct crunch as Jocelyn bit down on a roast potato.
‘Delicious,’ confirmed Diane sweetly.
‘It reminds me of Diane’s cooking,’ Jack offered. Diane raised an eyebrow at her husband. ‘In the early days, I mean,’ he clarified.
‘You mean to say Mum couldn’t cook either when you first got married?’ Tom was laughing but one look at Holly silenced him.