Page 20 of Barging In
V ictoria grabbed her bag and left her office. Work was done, and all she wanted now was to go home and zone out — but the supermarket beckoned.
Damn Christine!
She wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for her former catering manager’s festering bitterness. If she’d realised just how deep it ran, she might’ve thought to double-check the order.
On the positive side, she was getting to spend time with someone who was…
what, exactly? What was Clem to her, and why was there a bubbling excitement inside her at the thought of spending time together?
She’d spent the last forty-eight hours worrying Clem wouldn’t be returning to her trading spot, and now she’d agreed to bake cakes for the party and help her at the supermarket.
Having half-braced herself to be dragged into the canal again, Clem had turned out to be surprisingly agreeable.
Victoria had nearly cancelled the party when she discovered the entire food order was missing from their delivery. But deep down, she wasn’t ready to give up. Some things were worth the effort, and the wharf was one of them.
As she stepped into the courtyard, she spotted Clem checking out her car, holding what looked like a cake box. Was that a gift for her? Her mouth watered.
As she reached the car, Clem held it out to her. “Here. Lemon drizzle.”
Victoria’s cheeks bulged as she tried — unsuccessfully — to contain her happiness over what was, essentially, just a slice of cake.
“Thank you. That’s my favourite.”
“Really? Lucky guess on my part,” Clem said with a smug little shrug.
Unlocking the car and pulling her seat forward, Victoria carefully placed the box on the tiny seat behind it. Climbing in — with the usual groan from her body at how low down it was — she noticed Clem admiring the interior.
“You like?” Victoria asked, clicking on her seat belt.
“Yes, it’s lovely. You don’t see many of these around, not in this condition. How long have you owned it?”
“About ten years. It was a fortieth birthday present, from Drew — my husband.”
A sudden silence made Victoria regret mentioning his name.
“Wow, great gift, and I wouldn’t have put you at fifty,” Clem said, dissipating the awkwardness but leaving a burning in Victoria’s cheeks.
Having expected a comment about her wayward husband, this comment on her age caught her off guard in the best possible way. That Clem had looked at her and thought she was younger made her heart skip a beat.
“Well, I’m not quite fifty yet.” Give it a few hours .
Victoria started the car, then drove across the cobbles and out onto the road.
“Did you have that coffee?” Clem asked.
“I did; it helped, I think. That scrumpy certainly hit the right spot.”
“It doesn’t take much.”
“Your friend Max seems nice,” Victoria said, hoping to get some clarification on what exactly Max was to Clem. Not that it mattered, of course; she was simply wondering.
“He is.”
Well, that seemed to confirm they were only friends.
“Jasper will be all over him when he finds out he brews it,” she said.
“Is he seeing anyone?” Clem asked.
“Jasper? Not that I know of, but if you’re interested, I hate to break it to you: He’s as gay as Eurovision.”
“Not for me.” Clem chuckled. “Men are not my thing. Never found a need for them.”
“Oh.” Oh — why did she say that? What was someone meant to say to that? Victoria suddenly felt jittery, like adrenaline was coursing through her. She was beginning to regret mixing scrumpy with coffee.
“I was asking for Max,” Clem explained. “He’s had eyes for Jasper for a long time, apparently.”
“Then he already holds the key to Jasper’s heart,” Victoria said, trying to focus and forget about Clem’s sexuality. It didn’t matter to her that Clem liked women. “He needs a man. He’s been single too long.”
“Where is Jasper, anyway? Can’t he help you prepare for tomorrow?”
“He’s at a conference in London, not back until tomorrow afternoon. I’ve put him in charge of decorating the café and setting everything up.”
They lapsed into a comfortable silence. The fields rolled past, soon giving way to buildings as they crossed a bridge over the canal leading into town.
The nearest supermarket was on the far side, and rush hour had them queuing in traffic.
The stillness, though it served to calm her, was beginning to feel a little awkward, so Victoria decided to break it.
“Where do you get all your supplies from?”
“I get deliveries to my parents’ house.”
“Oh, of course,” Victoria said. She’d noticed the van but assumed it was just general groceries for Clem. “Makes sense.” Not wanting the conversation to fizzle out, she added, “Can I ask how you knew it was us — Christine, I should say — who tried to get you moved?”
“It seems my dad is friends with the landowner, who also seems to own that stretch of the canal.”
“Ah. Mr Armitage,” Victoria said as the traffic moved.
“Yes. He was straight on the phone to my dad and quite happy to spill the beans.”
“Is that how you got yourself the best trading spot?” Victoria asked, glancing at Clem as her mouth opened in mock offence.
“I wouldn’t know anything about that — or what is the best spot.”
Victoria grinned. “Okay, I believe you.”
“But, for what it’s worth, I am sorry about Christine. If I had any part in her firing.”
“Thank you, but it’s no real loss. Yes, she’s put me in a difficult position with what she did to you, but she’s been a pain in my backside for a while.
Her departure would have happened sooner or later.
I insisted she remove those reviews, but you might have noticed she hasn’t.
I did add a comment, though. I hope it helps. ”
“I saw. Thank you; it means a lot. ”
Victoria smiled as she reversed into a parking space. “It was the least I could do.”
As she applied the handbrake, Clem fidgeted in her seat and then turned to face her. “For what it’s worth, my mum told the builders no one was living next door.”
“I should have known,” Victoria said with a roll of her eyes.
“Sorry. My parents can be a bit full-on sometimes.”
“Don’t worry about it. I was having a bad start to the day when I met them. I may have been a bit abrupt.”
“We all have bad days,” Clem said gently.
A soft smile followed. It was light, kind, and entirely disarming, and it hit Victoria square in the chest. Her heart squeezed, causing a warmth to rush through her. Why did Clem make her feel such things?
“I’ll grab a trolley,” Clem said, suddenly reaching for the door. “Meet you in there.”
“Thanks,” Victoria replied, grateful to have a moment alone to collect herself as she exited and headed into the store.
Clem joined her a few minutes later as she was rummaging through the cucumbers, trying to find the freshest ones for the salmon and cucumber sandwiches. Noticing her companion squirming and biting her lips together, Victoria pointed one of the long, green vegetables at her.
“If you’re thinking of making a cucumber joke, so help me, I’ll—” She waved the cucumber menacingly.
Clem raised her hands in mock innocence. “Hadn’t even crossed my mind.”
Victoria smiled. “Now, have you got a list?”
“All in here,” Clem said, tapping the side of her head. “Baking is second nature. You know, this place sells cakes. It would’ve saved you the trouble of begging me to bake. They’re not as shit as yours either.”
Victoria’s jaw dropped. “I did not beg. And how did you know about our shit cakes? Been checking out the competition, have we?”
“No. Max told me how awful they were. Anyway, I’m not the one sending my curator to fetch me lemon drizzle and then sitting on the towpath practically inhaling it.”
“I did not inhale it!” Victoria protested, but spying Clem’s overly pleased with herself grin, she added, “Okay, maybe I did.”
Clem winked. “And that’s how I know you like lemon drizzle.”
“Hmm,” Victoria said, lips pressed together. “There is no harm in keeping an eye on competitors. Anyway, I don’t want shop-bought. This is the wharf’s first birthday. I need the bes?—“
“Oh, I see. I’m the best, am I?” Clem said, her face creasing with amusement.
Victoria narrowed her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“Do I?” Clem teased, rubbing her chin.
“Oh, shush. You know you are. Your lemon drizzle is divine.”
“Yeah. I do know.” Clem smirked, bumping her shoulder gently into Victoria’s and sending tingles shooting straight through her in the process.
Was Clem being flirtatious, or was Victoria overthinking? She didn’t know Clem well enough to know all her sides, but she was pretty sure the pissed-off version she’d seen so much of couldn’t be the real Clem.
“The best cake maker — and modest too. You really are the complete woman,” Victoria drawled.
“I like to think so,” Clem said, leaning on the trolley. “So, what’s on your list? ”
“Scones.”
“Scones? You’re buying scones.”
“Yes. What else do you suggest I do? Find a magic lamp and rub it?”
“You could rub me.” Clem bit her lip, eyes widening. “Oh — I don’t mean. Oh, erm. I just meant I can bake you some scones.”
Victoria raised an eyebrow, hoping the heat prickling her cheeks wasn’t visible. “You can?”
“Of course. They’re hardly difficult.”
“I wasn’t suggesting you couldn’t , merely questioning whether you were offering to make them. At least I think you were offering.”
“I was,” Clem said, resting a hand on Victoria’s arm. “I am.”
“Thank you.”
Their eyes met, lingering just long enough for Victoria to register the warmth of Clem’s hand through her sleeve.
It stirred something she hadn’t felt in a long time, the feeling of comfort and connection.
She’d almost forgotten how grounding it could be to feel someone else’s touch.
Realising how much she missed the feeling and how rare it had become in her life made her heart feel heavy.
“We should get on,” Victoria said, desperate to stop her thoughts.
“Yes, of course.”
Half an hour later, with everything packed tightly into the small car, Victoria turned to Clem, who was wedged in the passenger seat beside her.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
A muffled ‘yes’ came from behind a pile of carrier bags.
Victoria winced. She didn’t sound okay. “It’s not far,” she tried to reassure Clem. “I didn’t realise how much I would need — or just how small the luggage compartment is.”
“It’s fine. We got it in… just. As long as we don’t crash or I need to breathe for the next ten minutes, I’ll survive.”
Victoria laughed. “Sorry.” Relieved to hear a quiet chuckle beside her, she drove out of the car park.
Bags rustled behind their seats as the car turned a corner. Maybe she should be thanking Christine after all. She and Clem had enjoyed a perfect outing — no shouting, no swearing, no storming off — and she’d had the most enjoyable trip to the supermarket she could recall.
With rush hour traffic long gone, the drive back to the wharf was relatively quick.
Victoria reversed up to the main entrance between the picnic benches, sparing herself the effort of lugging everything across the courtyard.
She made her way around to the passenger side of her car and freed Clem from beneath the pile of bags.
“You should head off. I can get all this inside,” she said, lifting the bags from her lap.
Clem got out and stepped towards Victoria. She was so close — the kind of close that made Victoria’s breath hitch.
“Let me help.” Clem’s fingers brushed Victoria’s as she reached for the bags.
It was the lightest of touches but still sent a tingle through Victoria’s hand.
She tried to shake Clem off. “No, honestly. I can manage.”
“It’s fine. I’m happy to help,” Clem said, giving the bags a gentle tug.
Victoria pulled back. “I’ve taken up enough of your time already.”
A knowing grin spread across Clem’s face. “Do you not remember how our previous tug of war ended? ”
Victoria huffed out a laugh and released her grip. “Okay. You can help.”
After several trips back and forth, they wrangled all the shopping into the wharf’s kitchen. Victoria locked up and returned to Clem, where she lingered by the Jag.
“Well, thanks for your help,” Victoria began. “It was kind of you to offer.”
“Anytime,” Clem replied, digging her toes into the gaps between the cobbles.
“So, I’ll see you here in the morning?”
“Yes.” Clem looked up. “Is six, okay? Or too early?”
“Six is perfect.” It wasn’t. It was way too early, and with the party likely leading to a late night, tomorrow was going to be a very long day. Too long for her liking.
Clem gave a firm nod and backed away, hands tucked in her pockets. “See you then.”
“And thanks for the cake,” Victoria called after her. “Can’t wait to dig in.”
With a wink, Clem turned and strode across the courtyard towards the bridge.
Victoria leaned against her car for balance, feeling like all the blood in her body had rushed to her head.
Heat rushed under her skin as her knees threatened to give way.
Damn the woman for making her feel like this.
It wasn’t helpful. She didn’t need to be having knee-weakening feelings — not now, not ever.
She’d put herself out to pasture a long time ago, and she wasn’t looking to rejoin the herd. She’d moved on from all that.
With Clem out of sight, Victoria checked her watch.
It was late. She needed dinner and her bed.
Without Christine, she’d be stuck doing all the food prep for the party herself.
Poor Emma would have to manage the café alone.
Even with lunches off the menu, thanks to staff shortages, it was still a lot to ask of her .
Victoria got in the car and drove home. As the road wended before her, her thoughts immediately fell back to Clem.
The woman made her laugh, and in her company, Victoria felt lighter, as though some of the weight she’d grown used to carrying was beginning to lift.
It was a strange feeling, considering Clem’s presence was also part of what made everything feel so heavy.
Still, she hoped they’d find a way through. If they could work together, they might even find a way to make both of their businesses thrive. If she made some tweaks to the café and they could agree on some operational boundaries, they would have no reason to be anything but neighbourly.
As for the odd feelings Clem stirred in her… Well, Victoria decided she needed to get a grip. She was married and would remain so, if only for the sake of the business. Unlike her husband, she wouldn’t stray from a contract. Not even at the wink of a beautiful woman.