Page 28 of Cupcakes and Kisses in Micklewick Bay

SIXTEEN

SATURDAY

Jasmine was thankful Connor’s birthday cake had been collected before the viewing that morning.

Zak had been thrilled when his friend had turned up.

He’d arrived with a woman who introduced herself as Sabrina Osborne, elaborating by saying she was “Connor’s dad’s assistant”.

From a few things Zak had mentioned, Jasmine got the impression Connor’s mum wasn’t on the scene and hadn’t been for some time.

And though she had a friendly disposition, Sabrina, who looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties, with her long, poker-straight curtain of glossy, dark hair and striking blue eyes, not to mention delicate high cheekbones and legs that went on forever, had left Jasmine feeling inferior and distinctly dowdy.

Even Sabrina’s casual attire of ankle-grazer jeans, chunky brown belt and crisp white shirt, complete with brown leather loafers on her slender feet, managed to look effortlessly stylish.

The young woman had an air of authority about her, creating the impression that she was uber organised and efficient.

That said, Sabrina was likeable – if not a little cool – and there was something about her that put Jasmine in mind of Stella.

She’d found herself wondering if the role of “Connor’s dad’s assistant” extended to matters of a more personal nature.

After all, Sabrina was very attractive, and no doubt turned heads wherever she went.

‘Zak’s very welcome to come back with us now, if he’d like?’ Sabrina had asked with a dazzling smile. Both Zak and Connor had jumped up and down excitedly, begging for Jasmine to say yes, which, of course, she had. It had been good to see Zak so happy after the Scragg drama.

‘Oh, and his dad’s asked me to double-check it’s still okay for him to stay for the sleepover? There are a couple of other lads staying, too.’

‘Yes, that’s absolutely fine, he’s been looking forward to it.

’ As a rule, Jasmine would need to know the family before agreeing to her son going to a sleepover at their house, but after making enquiries about the family with some of the other mums whose children would be there, too, she’d satisfied herself that all would be okay.

Just then, Jasmine’s mobile had started to ring which had prompted Sabrina to declare it was time to leave. She scooped up the cake and headed through the door, the boys bouncing with enthusiasm as they left, Jasmine calling for them to have fun.

An hour later, her heart had plummeted to her feet when she’d answered the door to see Dodgy Dick and his wife Wendy looking back at her, an air of trouble around them.

They put her in mind of a couple of black crows with their matching dyed-black hair and funereal clothes.

Didn’t they know dark colours absorbed heat?

As usual, Wendy was bedecked in an array of sparkling jewellery, her face caked in make-up, finished with a slash of red lipstick that was so vivid it practically screamed at you.

They seemed to be embracing a generic gangster vibe, not realising it made them look more like caricatures.

‘Well, fancy seeing you here.’ Dodgy Dick hadn’t waited to be invited in, and made to come inside, forcing Jasmine to take a step back, squashing her behind the door as he passed. Wendy had stepped in, her overpowering perfume catching in Jasmine’s throat and making her hold her breath.

She hadn’t been given the name of the people who were booked for the viewing, and seeing who had arrived, made Jasmine wonder if the omission had been deliberate. And, if so, why?

She’d hated every second of showing the obnoxious couple around.

As well as being critical of the condition of the house – something she had to agree with – they’d wandered around, picking up her personal items, sniggering as they’d made derogatory remarks.

What was worse, they’d taken their time over it, taking pleasure from her obvious discomfort.

Once they’d gone, she’d puffed out her cheeks, and leant her back against the door, praying they wouldn’t ask for a second viewing.

Next, she ran around, opening the windows in a bid to release the cloying smell of Wendy’s perfume that clung to everything.

The little house wasn’t big enough to tolerate such a powerful smell.

The bakery had been crazy busy which meant the afternoon had gone quickly.

Despite Alice telling her she could use the Spick ‘n’ Sparkle van whenever she needed, Jasmine still felt uncomfortable about it, so, not wanting to look like she was taking advantage, she’d walked to and from the shop in the square.

It wasn’t far, but the air was muggy and she was in a lather by the time she got home.

After downing a glass of cold water, she headed upstairs for a cooling shower.

Feeling refreshed, she stepped into a clean pair of utility shorts and T-shirt, then headed into the kids’ bedrooms, gathering up clothes for a wash.

She stopped in her tracks when she spotted Zak’s backpack full of his sleepover things on the floor by his bed.

‘ Zaky ,’ she said, using the nickname he’d declared himself to be too old for.

He must’ve been so excited about Connor’s party, he’d left without it.

Normally, Jasmine was fastidious about making sure her children had everything they would need with them, but she’d been distracted by her phone ringing when they were leaving.

She glanced at her watch, deliberating if she should drop it off.

In the end, she decided she should; she didn’t want Zak to realise he’d forgotten it when it was time to get ready for bed.

And she didn’t have to hang around, she could just hand the bag over to Sabrina and bid a hasty retreat.

She had a christening cake design to plan, but she could do that when she got back since she had the evening to herself as Chloe was staying at her parents’ house for the night after a trip to the cinema in York.

It was years since Jasmine had last been along the track on this side of the cliffs.

It was well-worn by dog walkers and precipitous in parts, with the sound of the waves crashing below, the salty tang of seaweed hanging in the air.

The views out to sea were spectacular, affording a panoramic view of the bay, reaching right along to Thorncliffe.

You could literally see for miles. She headed left and crossed a grassy stretch of land that led to the road and eventually the entrance to Njord’s View – so named after Njord, the Viking god of the sea – a welcome breeze gently ruffling her hair.

She felt a tingle rush over her skin and she couldn’t help but think the area had a magical feel.

“Mystical”, would be how Lark would no doubt describe it.

‘Wow!’ She stopped in her tracks, her gaze sweeping over the clean lines of the impressive art deco building that loomed before her, circular turrets sitting at each end.

It hadn’t looked like this when she’d last set eyes on it.

Then, the white-painted walls had been peeling, the metal window frames rusting and weeds had peppered the driveway.

The word “unloved” sprang to mind. But now…

Now it had benefited from an exquisitely tasteful makeover.

Before it was a newly laid gravel drive, upon which sat a gleaming sports car and equally shiny four-wheel drive.

Wide, neatly kept lawns stretched out either side.

Beyond that, a broad flight of steps led up to a large front door that featured elongated panels.

It had been painted a soft blue that matched the sky perfectly.

The walls had been painted a chalky white, while the elegant metal-framed windows had been finished in the same blue as the front door, their panes glinting in the sunlight.

Everything about it exuded understated style.

It was a far cry from her little home that Dodgy Dick and his wife had taken such pleasure in ridiculing earlier that day.

As she drew closer, the sound of young voices reached her ears, laughing and cheering. She detected Zak’s in amongst them, full of its usual enthusiasm. The low bark of a dog joined in, making her smile.

With a hint of trepidation, she headed through the large double gates that had been flung back, and made for the front door – she half-wondered if she should look for a tradesman’s entrance, which she felt would probably be more fitting for her.

She set Zak’s backpack down on the step, and pressed what appeared to be the original doorbell. Standing back, she smoothed her hands over her pixie crop, thankful at least that it was freshly washed and would have no trace of icing sugar or glitter.

A moment later, the door swung open and a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark auburn hair filled the frame. He was wearing an aquamarine linen shirt and navy-blue cotton shorts.

‘Max!’ Jasmine didn’t have time to stop the loud gasp from escaping her mouth as she tried to make sense of her old friend answering the door of Njord’s View. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Jingilby!’

She looked on, speechless, as his face broke out into a smile, a twinkle in his hazel eyes that sent her hurtling back over twenty years.