Page 22 of Best Laid Plans

London is a vibrant and forward-looking city, ever evolving, with an exciting new encounter just waiting for you at every turn…

One week later

Indigo wiped her hands on her apron and looked round at the eclectic gathering of local people who had turned up for her early evening cookery course, despite the torrential rain.

Her feet throbbed and her back ached from being on her feet all day, but her insides burned with satisfied warmth as she perused the table full of nutritious, delicious-smelling food that her class had produced in just an hour – which they’d easily be able to replicate at home.

This made all her hard work worth it – the shine of pride on the faces of people who’d previously not believed they’d ever have the skills to cook anything vaguely edible for themselves, let alone something they’d be proud to share with friends or loved ones.

The kitchen at the back of the cafe wasn’t stocked with enough culinary equipment to be able to teach more than five people at a time, but she was hoping that once the grant came through – she mentally crossed her fingers that it still would – she’d be able to afford to buy more so she could teach a larger group at one time.

‘Well, I think you’ve all done a wonderful job today. It’s great to see how much you’ve improved since you first started coming here,’ she said, beaming at them all.

‘It’s good to have you back, Indigo. We missed your lovely smile while you were off gallivanting in Italy,’ Ron, one of the gentlemen who had been coming to her for a couple of months now, called across the room, giving her a cheeky wink.

He’d been a morose character when he’d first started coming, due to losing his beloved wife only a short time ago, but he’d slowly made friends and come out of his shell as, week by week, he’d allowed himself to be integrated into the group.

She suspected there might even be romance blossoming between him and the only lady currently attending.

They often had their heads together, chatting quietly as they worked.

Pushing away a sting of melancholy at the thought of the dire state of her own love life, she returned his wink and gestured towards the table.

‘Okay, well, if you want to start tidying away, we’re just about out of time. I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get home and eat after being tortured by the smell of your wonderful grub cooking for the last twenty minutes.’

It was hard keeping up a chipper tone of voice when her heart was so heavy, but somehow, she seemed to be managing it.

When the group had asked her about her holiday, she’d worked hard to sound breezy and upbeat about it, telling them as much as she could whilst studiously avoiding mentioning Julien’s name. She thought she’d pulled off making it sound as if she’d had a fun and revitalising time, though.

The bell of the cafe rang in the distance and she glanced over to her friend and kitchen assistant, Lacey, sharing a questioning smile with her.

‘I’ll go and see who it is and tell them we’re closed,’ Lacey said, already walking towards the door.

Grabbing some dirty bowls from the table, Indigo went to stack them in the dishwasher – wanting to pre-empt the tidy-up so she could get home a bit earlier tonight and have a soothing bath – and turned back to see Lacey walk into the kitchen, closely followed by a man.

A man who was tall, with blond hair and mesmerising whisky-brown eyes.

‘Julien?’ she gasped, not wanting to trust her vision. She hadn’t been sleeping particularly well since she’d got back, her mind still whirling with thoughts about him, and she wondered for a second whether her addled brain had conjured him up to torture her a little bit more.

He walked slowly towards her, smiling in that wry way that she knew so well, making her heart beat a little faster with the comforting familiarity of it.

‘What… what are you doing here?’ she stammered.

‘I hear you offer cookery courses to men who no longer have wives,’ he said.

She blinked at him, confused by such a strange opening line. ‘To widowers usually,’ she said uncertainly. There was a beat of uncomfortable silence. ‘But I guess we could make an exception for a divorcee,’ she finished, not wanting to look rude and uncomfortable in front of her class.

‘Is this the young man you met on holiday that you’ve been avoiding telling us about?’ Margery, the lone woman in the group, piped up, her eyes twinkling with good humour.

The whole roomful of people seemed to shift at once as they all turned to look at each other, exchanging knowing glances.

Had they been talking about her behind her back whenever she left the room?

She sighed, feeling trapped and unprepared to deal with Julien’s presence here in her kitchen – a place she liked to think of as her personal sanctuary. ‘This is Julien,’ she said, gesturing vaguely towards him, ‘and yes, we met in Italy.’

There was a murmur of friendly greeting from the group.

Turning to face him now, she said with as much assertiveness as she could muster, ‘I’m afraid we’re just about to pack up for the evening, but if you’d like to come back at another time, I’m sure we can talk about finding a place in a group for you.’

There was a glint of determination in his eyes. ‘Actually, I was hoping I could walk you home tonight,’ he said, moving closer. ‘I have some things I need to say to you – and I’d rather not do it in front of all these strange people.’ He held up an apologetic hand to the group. ‘No offence.’

‘None taken,’ Margery called from the other side of the room, giving Julien a supportive grin.

‘Yes, Indigo, you go,’ Lacey, said. ‘I can supervise the tidy-up and make sure the place is locked up before I leave.’

Indigo opened her mouth to argue but, as one, the whole group shook their heads at her.

‘Go and spend some time with your friend,’ Ron said, flapping a dismissing hand at her.

Well, it seemed as if she didn’t have much of a choice. Clearly, they weren’t going to let her stay. So much for her being the one in charge here.

‘Okay then,’ she said with an exasperated smile, pulling off her apron and going to hang it up on one of the pegs on the wall.

She gave her hands a quick wash, then went to fetch her bag and coat from the small office behind the kitchen, taking a moment to drag in some steadying breaths before she went back out there to face whatever was in store for her this evening.

No way was she letting herself get excited about him being here.

She didn’t think she could cope with more disappointment when it came to Julien.

When she returned, he was chatting comfortably with Lacey, who was leaning against the counter, looking up at him with big, friendly eyes.

Huh , trust him to charm everyone as soon as he walked in.

‘Okay, I’m ready to go,’ she told Julien as she approached the two of them, making sure to keep her voice emotion-free. ‘Thanks, Lacey.’

‘Have a good evening,’ her friend replied, giving her a covert eyebrow-waggle.

Indigo scowled back, intensely aware of Julien’s presence right there beside her.

‘See you next week, everyone,’ she called to the rest of the group, hoping to goodness her face didn’t look as flushed as it felt.

They all responded with a wave and a smile and continued to watch her with interest until she put her hand on Julien’s back and ushered him towards the door.

There was a gentle hubbub of noise as they walked out.

No doubt tongues would be wagging once she’d gone.

Out in the damp night air, she turned to face him and crossed her arms in front of her.

It felt so strange to see him here, on her patch.

He was as immaculately dressed as always and her tummy tumbled as she fully took him in for the first time since he’d shown up.

He looked so darn handsome, standing there as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

Which she guessed he didn’t. She wondered fleetingly whether it was going to be possible to get through this without entirely losing her cool.

‘So, what’s this all about? Why are you here?’

He let out a low breath and looked around him, as if gathering himself for what he was about to say. ‘Let’s walk, shall we?’

‘Can’t you just tell me here?’ she said, grasping onto the only thread of power she had left.

He crossed his own arms and frowned down at the floor, and she noticed for the first time that he had a black shopping bag swinging from one hand. She wondered what he could have in there. It was a strange thing for him to be carrying overnight clothes in.

‘What’s in the bag?’ she blurted, unable to keep her curiosity to herself.

‘You’ll see,’ he said, flashing her an enigmatic smile.

‘Really? You’re not going to tell me?’

‘Non. You’ll have to wait until we’re back at your flat and I’m ready to show you. I’m not prepared to do this out on the street either.’

She bristled with frustration. ‘And you think I’m stubborn!

’ Sighing, she took one more look at the determination on his face and gave him a resigned nod, knowing there was no way she could turn him away.

Not if it meant she’d find out what was going on with him now.

It had been eating away at her since she’d last seen him, and she needed answers so she could move on.

‘Okay, fine, you win.’ She gestured for them to start walking. ‘It’s this way.’

It only took them two minutes to walk to her flat from the cafe and neither of them spoke a word as they made their way down the noisy main road, stepping around the puddles that the earlier heavy downpour had left in its wake.

‘This is me,’ she said when they reached the end of her road.

He followed her to her flat – the place she’d moved into after Gavin had left her. Hers was on the top floor of the converted terrace house, which she loved because she enjoyed falling asleep looking at the night sky through the skylight in the sloping attic ceiling.