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THE TWENTY-FOURTH
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Thirty Days THE TWENTY-FIFTH
I am just bringing through a batch of freshly baked sesame seed rolls from the kitchen when I hear a familiar voice saying my name. I look up to find Eddy, my old boss at Hudson; his wife, Meg; and their gorgeous little girl, Sophia, standing on the other side of the counter. I hand off the tray of rolls to Lorna, our Saturday girl, and rush around to give them all a hug. “Gosh, it is so great to see you guys!” I exclaim, overjoyed at this unexpected surprise. When I left Hudson, the circumstances were far from ideal, but I never blamed Eddy for the part he played. Through the office grapevine, he heard about my move to Brighton and got in touch via email asking for my forgiveness. I explained to him that everything was between Taylor and me and that he had nothing to apologise for. Since then we have exchanged emails, and I have kept in touch with Meg via Facebook. Sophia holds her arms to me to take her, and I grin, pleased that she remembers me. I give her a cuddle as we chat, an
Thirty Days THE TWENTY-SIXTH
Annabeth stands back to admire her handiwork, and I can’t help but clap my hands like a kid. With the addition of each work of art, the walls have come to life, the different shades of grey providing the perfect foil for the bright drawings and paintings. Next to each frame is a white card with the name of the artist and title of the artwork, along with a brief description and a price. The partition between the shops is now down, and James’s guys are cleaning up the mess they made. Both the bakery and café are filled with the delicious aroma of cookies that has wafted through from the kitchen. Mum has been running around like a headless chicken all day, moving things from one place to another and then back to their original position, and it is driving me nuts. “Mum, stop,” I command. “It all looks amazing. Plus once people have been through here, we are going to have to tidy it all up again anyway.” Mum lets out a soft grumble about just wanting to make it perfect, but I know she rea
Thirty Days THE TWENTY-SEVENTH
It is eight o’clock and we have officially opened Cake. Bread opened as normal at seven, but we left the rope barrier up to give Emma and Alison some extra time to get set up after there was a bit of a mix-up with the milk delivery this morning. I have no sooner unlocked the door than Fred and Sarah come walking in, demanding coffee. I laugh and introduce them both to Emma and Alison before giving them the grand tour I promised when I dropped off their cakes on Saturday. Their response is gratifying, and as they walk out with their lattes, they promise to spread the word. The rest of the morning is much the same, with our bakery regulars popping in to check out the café after they have bought their bread. Slowly, though, the café fills with new faces, and by late afternoon I think it is safe to declare our opening a success. As I help out where needed in both the café and bakery, ensuring that everyone gets their breaks, I watch with delight as people scarf down their cakes. The co
Thirty Days THE TWENTY-EIGHTH
I blame my Internet time last night for the reason that I am feeling so jittery. Any sudden noises make me jump, and I am hyper-aware of everyone around me. By lunchtime, I still can’t shake the feeling of dread that has settled over me, and I take myself out into the alleyway to give myself a talking-to. I am aware that I probably look a little unhinged telling myself to get it together, but I know my odd behaviour has been noticed by my colleagues and I don’t want them to be worried about me. A movement in my peripheral vision startles me, and my body immediately goes into fight/flight mode. As a guy steps forward, I realise it is actually one of my security detail. They have been so good at their jobs, I have not had a clue where they hang out whilst keeping an eye on me. “Are you okay, Abby?” he asks as he makes his way over to me. “It’s Ben, isn’t it?” I ask, and when he nods, I feel stupidly pleased with myself that I actually remembered his name. “I don’t know, Ben. I was lo
Thirty Days THE TWENTY-EIGHTH pt2
I am suddenly awake. My heart is pounding, and I open my eyes slowly, waiting as they adjust to the darkness of my bedroom. I can’t remember if it was a bad dream that woke me up or a strange noise, but I am lying here trying to still my rapid breathing as I survey the room. My eyes pick up a shadow in the corner, but I am quick to dismiss it. Inwardly cursing my overactive imagination, I reach out and flick on the lamp beside the bed. My eyes adjust to the sudden light, and as I scan the room, the shadow I so easily dismissed steps forward. I let out a gasp as realisation dawns on the identity of the person standing in front of me. “Anna,” I say, staring as she slowly moves forward until she is standing at the foot of the bed. “What are you doing here?” She doesn’t say a word, and for a moment I think I am maybe dreaming, that is, until I see the knife she is holding in her hand. My body starts to tremble, but I will myself to be calm. Now is not the time to turn into a complete m
Thirty Days THE TWENTY-EIGHTH pt3
A surreal sense of déjà vu hits me as I wake to the sound of beeping. I open my eyes to find Taylor staring down at me with tears in his eyes. “Bean?” I gasp, scared of what those tears might mean. “Bean is fine,” Taylor soothes, stroking my hair back off my face. “The doctor should be back any minute, but everyone is confident from the scans and tests that Bean is okay.” I reach up to stroke Taylor’s face, still reluctant to believe that Taylor is actually here with me. I wince at the pain that shoots across my ribs, and Taylor immediately brings his face down to mine in the gentlest of kisses. “How are you here?” I ask. “I thought you weren’t due until tomorrow.” “I wanted to surprise you for your birthday. I’d always planned on being back early,” Taylor says with a little smirk on his face, though the cockiness he would have usually exhibited over his surprise is gone under the circumstances. “And thank fuck I did….Oh my god, Abby, I don’t even want to think about what would ha
Thirty Days THE TWENTY-NINTH
I wake up and for a moment confusion clouds my brain until the memories of last night start filtering back. My whole body aches and I briefly wonder why I can’t seem to move my arm, that is, until I glance down to find Taylor asleep beside me, his head resting in the palm of my hand. My movements wake him, and I see his eyes open slowly. For a moment neither of us says anything. With a soft smile, Taylor strokes the inside of my wrist with his thumb and says, “So what is this all about, hey?” “Baby we’re fate,” I murmur back at him, repeating the words I said when Taylor proposed to me. “I wanted it to be permanent, but apparently they don’t tattoo pregnant chicks, so instead Fred did it in henna for me. I wanted it to be a surprise for you…” I trail off, unsure of how Taylor is going to respond. “It’s beautiful, Abby. I love the design. And I am glad you didn’t just cover your scars up.” I stiffen at his words. “They are a part of you, and if not for them, maybe you and I would n
Thirty Days THE TWENTY-NINTH pt2
The bell on the door announces our arrival, and the moment Bea looks up and sees us standing there, she rushes forward and envelops me in a hug. I hear her sniffing as she tries to hold back the tears. Finally, she looks me in the face, holding it between her hands gently. “Thank god you are all right, Abby,” she exclaims. “Is the little one okay?” “We are both fine, thanks, Bea. The doctor cleared us to leave this morning, so there is no need to worry.” I smile and keep my voice light. Sensing my need to try and retain a degree of normality, Bea clears her throat before ushering me towards one of the sofas, calling out to Emma to bring the birthday girl her latte. Emma gives me a bright smile and thumbs-up, so I sink into the buttery-soft leather while Taylor heads upstairs to take a shower and pack a bag for us. No sooner is Emma placing my steaming coffee in front of me than Andreas comes through with a plate of freshly baked croissants. “Here you go, Abby,” Andreas says as he h
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