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THE TENTH
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Thirty Days THE TENTH pt2
“Wow, I mean, seriously wow,” Michelle shouts down the phone at me. “Hey, I am right here. No need to blow my eardrums,” I admonish, chuckling before I carry on bringing her up to speed with the day’s events. My friendship with Michelle changed after my ‘incident’. Despite the fact that when we worked together she knew everything about me, when I came down to Brighton and my life spiralled out of control, I kind of flaked on her. Yet the day after I returned home from The Clinic and Taylor’s crazy midnight drunken proposal, Michelle turned up on my doorstep, bringing chocolate and caffeine, my drugs of choice, and unflinching support. Since then I have been under strict orders to keep Michelle in the loop, so I have done my best to keep her up to date via text and email. In return, she posts random inspirational thoughts on my Facebook timeline and phones me when she has a spare five minutes here and there. “Seriously, Abs, this sounds amazing. I can’t wait to see the place when it
Thirty Days THE TENTH pt3
Glancing outside, I notice that darkness has descended and I remember that Taylor promised to be home early. I head into the kitchen to check out what I have in the fridge to make for dinner and find it empty. Bugger! I am just running through my mental Rolodex of decent local takeaways that I can suggest to Taylor as I just can’t face eating out after my busy day when I hear his key in the lock. “Hey, Abs, you up there?” Taylor calls out whilst making his way up the stairs. “Uh-huh. I am in the kitchen,” I say just before he pops his head around the door frame. “It’s official. The fridge is empty. Takeaway?” I suggest. “Sounds good to me,” Taylor agrees. We argue back and forth, finally settling on Thai. Yum, my favourite. While Taylor calls in our order, I head into the bedroom to change. Shrugging off my jeans, I pull on a pair of fleecy pyjama bottoms covered in cute owls and a long-sleeve T-shirt. I am just pulling on a comfy long cardigan when I hear Taylor’s phone ring. “Sorry,
Thirty Days THE TENTH pt4
With my heart hammering and my stomach full of nerves, I decide to do something I have never done before and, to be honest, never thought I would want to try. I stand up off the couch and move in front of Taylor, interrupting his playing by gently taking the guitar out of his hands and placing it on the side. I kneel down in between Taylor’s legs and capture his mouth with mine. After a second’s hesitation, Taylor is kissing me back with passion, his hands on either side of my face. Before I know it, Taylor is trying to pull me to my feet, but I pull back and Taylor looks at me, confused. “Pl…please, Taylor, I want to do this…” I trail off, unsure of how to phrase what ‘this’ is. A couple of warring expressions flit across Taylor’s face, and I can tell he doesn’t want to give up control, but something in my expression must speak to him because a soft look comes over his face. “Okay, babe, you take the lead.” I let out a breath I wasn’t even aware that I had been holding on to and with
Thirty Days THE ELEVENTH
I listen to the chatter between Nicola and Taylor as we drive across to Taylor’s cottage, wondering what life might have been like if I had had siblings. There is such a connection between the two of them, more so than even between Taylor and his twin, that I envy their closeness. But the fact that Nicola trusted me enough to let me help her means the world to me, and truth be told, she is already feeling like my own little sister. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to help her, which is why, when Taylor suggested we spend the night at the cottage with her, I readily agreed. My thoughts drift back over the morning in Bread. Anna settled in really well with the team, and I could see that Bea was pleased with how fast she was picking things up. Andreas had a slow start with Billy, one of the apprentices we had had in for a trial, but by lunchtime, things were running like clockwork and I had a team of very happy campers. And the quote that James had sent across first thing was spot on with
Thirty Days THE ELEVENTH pt2
A delicious aroma stirs my senses. I crack my eyes open and find that darkness has fallen. I scan the room and see Nicola tucked up on another sofa, watching something on her tablet, the volume turned down low, next to Taylor, who is reading a book. I sit up, rubbing my eyes and then stretching my arms above my head. Noticing the movement, Taylor and Nicola both look across at me with grins on their faces. “How long have I been out?” I croak. “About an hour and a half,” replies Taylor. “You were talking in your sleep,” Nicola tells me with a giggle. I clap my hand to my mouth, mortified. “No! What did I say?” “It sounded like a brownie recipe to me,” Nicola answers. “Trust me to talk cake in my sleep,” I laugh. At least it wasn’t anything too embarrassing, especially in front of Nicola. Or even worse, in front of Taylor. A beep emanates from the oven and Taylor gets to his feet. “Right, ladies, dinner will be ready in ten. Do you guys want to set the table?” “Argh, you are suc
Thirty Days THE TWELFTH
I wake up alone, the bedclothes cold. I gather up my pyjamas from where they were discarded last night and pull them on before wrapping a robe around me. It is after ten and I feel sheepish for having slept in so late. I make my way downstairs and find Taylor and Nicola mooching around, cups of coffee in hand. “Morning, sleepyhead,” Taylor calls across from the kitchen. “Coffee?” “Please…” I mumble, in serious need of some caffeine. Yeah, yeah. I know you are supposed to go all decaf and shit when you are pregnant, but I am like a bear with a sore head if I don’t get my morning fix. I tried, really tried, but I lasted only about a week before I caved, so now I just try to limit myself to one a day. I hop onto one of the barstools and gratefully take the latte that Taylor offers me. I sip slowly, gradually waking up and feeling ready for the day ahead. Nicola suddenly squeals, and we both look over at her as she excitedly taps on her phone. “What’s up, Stix?” Taylor asks. Seeing u
Thirty Days THE NINETEENTH
I lay my head down on my pillow, exhaustion making my limbs heavy. It is only eight o’clock, but after the week I have had, I feel shattered. I am alone, as I have been most of the week. Taylor has been preparing for his trip to South America, and so he has been leaving most mornings before I have woken up, and arriving after I have fallen into bed. I suggested that he stay in London, but he insisted that he wanted to sleep beside me each night. Our argument, still unresolved, has been the pink elephant in the room that we are both studiously ignoring while pretending everything is fine. Taylor, however, did make it to my first midwife appointment. Taylor had arranged for a sonogram, even though you don’t usually have one until twelve weeks. But I guess that is the advantage of having a boyfriend that insists on private health care. As we lay there listening to the heartbeat of our baby, staring at the strange little blob on the screen, the tears rolled down my face. When I glanced a
Thirty Days THE TWENTIETH
I stand in the middle of the café and slowly take in my surroundings. I am simply amazed at the progress that the builders have made in only a week. The large display window has now been opened up, filling the room with muted natural light, brand-new spotlights highlight the recessed corners, the oak floorboards have been sanded down and resealed, and the walls have been repainted, each in a different shade of grey. The builders spent the day yesterday knocking through to the bakery and have put a temporary partition in place until we are ready to open officially. “What do you think, sweetheart?” Mum’s voice startles me, and I whip my head around as she walks in from the back. “Seriously, Mum, this is amazing!” I exclaim crossing the room to envelop her in a big hug, squeezing her tight. “Are you sure? I mean, I know we talked about it, and you liked the samples…” Mum trails off. “Absolutely! This is even better than I could have imagined, Mum. You guys have done an amazing job.
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