A Family To Belong To

But did she like it? She wasn’t sure any more. She’d been so looking forward to coming back home—to her flat, to see her friends. But when she’d got there it hadn’t felt like home. It had just been a flat. Many of her friends had moved on in the two years she’d been away. Had downshifted and taken themselves off to the countryside.

Richard had married.

Surprisingly that hadn’t hurt as much as she’d thought it would. It had felt like closure. She looked up and caught Gideon watching her curiously. ‘When I get a parking space near my house I do.’

‘And do you miss LA?’

‘You must miss LA,’ Debbie cut in. ‘Can you imagine anything more exciting than to live in LA? Did you know she interviewed Brad Pitt?’

Kate played with a knot mark on the pine tabletop. She understood what Debbie was doing. She was even grateful for it. She was to be cast as a career woman. The woman with drive and vision who didn’t have time for a home and family. It was how she tried to present herself. It made life easier.

Debbie heaved herself out of the end seat. ‘How about I get the children something to eat? It’s nearly five. They must be hungry,’ she said, turning to Gideon.

‘That would be great. Then I can just rush them through the shower when we get home and put them to bed. I’ve got a mountain of paperwork waiting for me this evening.’

‘It’s not going to be fancy, but I’ve got some nice bread from the corner shop, cheese and things.’

Kate drained the last of her drink and pushed the empty mug towards the centre of the table. ‘Is there anything you’d like me to do?’ she asked.

Gideon had already taken some lettuce from Debbie’s fridge and begun to rinse it through under the tap. Completely unpretentious for a world-famous chef. He seemed so completely at home. Far more comfortable than she was in Debbie’s home.

Debbie reached up for a cerise plastic salad bowl. ‘There’s some cucumber in the bottom of the fridge, I think, Gideon. Chop that up and pop it in the salad. Kate, do you want to slice the bread?’ She paused and listened to a sudden shout. ‘I’m needed, I think. Daniel’s at that awful stage where he just won’t share.’

She turned and walked out of the room. Alone with Gideon, Kate felt nervous. Illogically so, she reminded herself. The tension was only in her head.

‘The bread’s in the bread bin,’ Gideon remarked.

Kate stood up hurriedly. ‘Does Debbie have a board to cut it on?’

‘By the toaster,’ he replied calmly.

‘Oh, right.’ She hadn’t been to this house before and it certainly showed, Kate thought as she searched in the wrong drawer for the bread knife. Whereas Gideon…

‘Debbie has a knife block.’

‘Does she?’

Gideon pointed across to the work surface on the other side of the kitchen. Kate walked over and pulled a couple of knives out before she selected the right handle. She turned in time to see him cut the cucumber in sliver-thin slices, his hand moving in a rapid rocking movement. ‘Open the cupboard second on the left,’ he said without looking up.

‘Why?’ she asked, looking down at the bread knife.

‘There’s a basket there you can use for the bread.’

If his intention was to make sure she realised she didn’t know what she was doing he was making a fine job of it.

She pulled open the cupboard and found the bread basket exactly as he’d said. ‘You seem to know your way around Deb’s kitchen,’ she said slightly acidly.

‘She’s one of the few people who ever invite me to lunch.’

‘Really?’ she asked in spite of herself.

He smiled. It was nothing, but it made Kate catch her breath. He had the kind of smile that lit up his face and made you want to smile back. Foolishly. At seventeen she’d done just that. Had grinned inanely every time he’d deigned to notice her.

‘Everyone’s intimidated about asking a chef to dinner. What do they cook? Will I criticise?’

Kate swallowed. ‘And do you?’

The grooves in his face deepened and Kate found herself smiling back at him. It was like breathing. Completely unconscious. He smiled and she felt good.

‘I’ll never confess to that.’

‘Probably wise,’ she returned, turning away and sawing at the loaf she’d found in the bread bin.

He put down his own knife and rested his hand lightly on hers. She looked at him questioningly, her heart hammering against her ribcage. ‘Let the knife do the work.’

‘Oh,’ she said, her eyes transfixed as she looked up at him.

‘It’s easier.’

Suddenly everything seemed to well up inside her. Coming home, now, after too long away. Aunt Babs being dead. Debbie pregnant.

Something of that must have communicated itself to Gideon because his eyes softened and the pressure on her hand increased. For a moment. And then he moved away. ‘It’s really important to Debbie you came. I’m sure it was difficult to get away…but it means a lot to her. It was a good decision.’

Kate sniffed. She never sniffed, but she did now. Hurriedly she turned her face away and returned all her attention to the task in hand. Just as he’d said, the blade moved through the fresh bread effortlessly.

She caught her trembling lip between her teeth. It had been two long years since she’d felt this aware of a man—and it frightened her. Relationships were pointless. They could lead nowhere. Not for her.

And not with Gideon. That was all in the past. Those dreams belonged to the girl she’d once been. Before he’d married Laura. Before the ruptured appendix. Before Richard.

‘Tell me about your restaurant,’ she said, breaking the silence. ‘Why did you change the name? What was it before? The Queen Anne?’

Gideon transferred the cucumber to the plastic bowl. ‘It’s on the quay. Simple as that. We, Laura and I, thought people would remember where it was and it would stick in their minds. There wasn’t any great discussion about it. Neither of us particularly liked the old name. There’s no record Queen Anne ever stayed there so it seemed rather pointless.’ He turned and looked along the shelf, pulling out the balsamic vinegar. ‘This will have to do for a dressing. Despite my best efforts I can’t get Tilly to eat salad anyway.’

Kate put the bread in the basket and turned to watch him.

His hands tossed the salad. ‘The hotel’s changed quite a bit since you were last on the island. We now have a restaurant and a brasserie. The brasserie has a limited menu but still uses the same fresh ingredients. The restaurant is more adventurous.’

Kate cast a look across at him. ‘And more expensive.’

‘Much more expensive,’ he said, placing the bowl in the centre of the pine table. He picked up the dirty mugs and moved them to the side by the sink. ‘I still plan the menus for the brasserie but I don’t cook there any more. Just the restaurant. And I don’t work at weekends. Not any more.’ He searched the fridge for the cheese. ‘I need to be there for the girls.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘Restaurant hours are long. Laura found it difficult. After Tilly was born particularly.’ His voice was empty of emotion.

Kate didn’t know what to say. There was a sudden stillness inside the kitchen. She busied herself putting away the bread board and rinsing the knife under the tap but she still felt uncomfortable.

Such pain. To have loved someone and lost them. So suddenly.

Gideon had only ever looked at Laura. Since the time he’d first arrived on the island. Had never deviated, had never looked elsewhere—and there’d been plenty of opportunities. Kate swallowed the hard lump in the back of her throat. She felt embarrassed by her feelings. She shouldn’t be finding him attractive. It felt…

She searched for the word in her head. It felt…wrong. That was it. Wrong. Like having feelings for a married man.

Debbie bustled into the kitchen. ‘I’ve put down a large plastic sheet in the middle of the lounge. The children can eat in there,’ she pronounced. ‘I’ve got some plastic plates somewhere. If we tell them it’s a picnic they’ll not mind so much about being cooped up because of the rain. Give us a couple of minutes’ peace.’

Kate flicked a glance across at Gideon’s profile. The tension that had shown on his face was gone, replaced with calm good humour. But she wasn’t fooled. He still suffered. Every day of his life since Laura died he’d been hurting. Doing all the things he had to do, going about his business, pretending he’d moved on…

Had Aunt Babs known that? Probably. She’d possessed the rare gift of noticing most things.

‘I think the plates are in the bottom cupboard, but I may have stuffed them in the box on the top of the freezer.’

Kate reached down and searched the cupboard Debbie was pointing at. ‘These?’ she asked, pulling a rainbow of plastic plates out from the shelf.

‘Yep, that’s them.’

She handed them across to Debbie, who laid them out on the table.

‘I think I’ve got some cold sausages in the fridge.’ Debbie pulled a tired hand across her face. ‘The kids can finish them up.’

Gideon laid a hand on her arm. ‘Take it easy. I’ll get them.’

Debbie sank back down in the seat. ‘I do feel dreadful. I think I’ll get Mike to put the boys to bed, then I’ll give myself an early night.’ She looked at Kate. ‘I’ll get you settled into Mum’s house first, though—’

Kate cut her off. ‘I can do that by myself.’

She shook her head. ‘Mum had double glazing put in at the back last summer and the door’s really odd. I need to show you how to do the handle.’

Gideon started to put bread, cheese and cold sausages on the children’s plates. ‘I can do that for you.’

‘No, I…’ Kate wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, but she didn’t want Gideon putting himself out like that. Didn’t want Debbie to trouble herself either. In fact, the idea of being alone for a while was really appealing.

‘Debbie needs to rest.’

His eyes held hers and his calmly stated comment prevented her from saying anything more. It was obviously true and equally obvious to anyone who knew Debbie well that she wouldn’t allow her to go alone.

‘I’ll keep your girls with me, then, until you’ve settled Kate in. The house feels very strange without Mum in it.’

Gideon picked up three plastic plates and went to carry them through to the lounge. ‘We’ll talk about that when it’s time to go. If Tilly’s woken up they might as well come with me.’

Kate gently rubbed at her temples. A small throbbing pain was beginning at the back of her eyes. It didn’t matter what arrangements they made for her, she’d had enough and wanted some time alone. Too many emotions were whirring about inside her and she needed time to dissect them all. Understand what she was feeling.

CHAPTER THREE

KATE wasn’t sure what she’d expected of her old home. It was still there. Reassuringly solid. The tiny front garden was still neat, with the cotoneaster growing up the north-facing wall.

‘I’m sorry to put you out like this,’ she began as Gideon joined her.

‘Don’t let it worry you,’ he said, turning his face out of the wind. ‘I’m doing it for Debbie. She’s exhausted. If she’d looked like that this morning I’d have delayed my visit to the mainland.’

Inwardly Kate cringed. If she’d been a better person she’d have taken over Debbie’s boys and sent her to bed. The small voice inside her knew it was true…

‘You’d better go in,’ Gideon said, nodding at the door.

She reached into the inner pocket of her handbag and pulled out the front door key. It was a dull gold, still attached to the leather keyring Aunt Babs had put on it.

Now she was here she wasn’t so sure it was a good idea. The house would be empty. No Aunt Babs cheerfully greeting her. No home-made rock cakes sitting on the side.

Her hand shook and Gideon took the key out of her trembling fingers. ‘Are you okay?’

Kate looked up at him. ‘I think I’ve finally realised she’s gone.’

He smiled grimly and fitted the key into the lock. ‘I’ll bring in the box of bits Debbie’s put together for you,’ he said as the front door swung open. ‘Go on in.’

She did as he said, stepping on to the encaustic tiled hallway. Aunt Babs had loved this floor. She’d spent hours on her hands and knees keeping it pristine with some secret mixture of linseed oil and turpentine. Kate let her fingers run along the dado rail. It was all exactly the same. Like walking into a memory.

It was impossible to believe Aunt Babs wouldn’t appear from the kitchen, a warm smile of welcome on her face. The house was eerily quiet. No sound of a radio blaring away in the background. Just the steady beat of the old hall clock on the wall.

Kate bent down to pick up the day’s post, which was sitting on the ‘welcome’ hearth mat. She’d take these to Debbie’s in the morning. See if they needed to contact anyone. She laid them down on the hall table and walked into the lounge.

A couple of cardboard boxes stood in the centre of the floor, a pile of photograph albums lay on the coffee table. Debbie must have decided it was time to start sorting out her mum’s belongings.

Kate took in a sudden intake of breath. It was going to be a difficult job. Painful. Perhaps she could help with that? Maybe she could assuage her conscience by ringing Debbie and offering to make a start on the kitchen cupboards? That would be a horrid job.

Dimly she heard Gideon walk back into the house. She heard his feet on the hard floor of the hallway. ‘Kate?’

‘In here,’ she called back. ‘I’m in here.’

She walked slowly over to the dark wood chiffonier and picked up a photograph in a bright silver frame. It showed Aunt Babs, Debbie and Kate—the three of them. They were sitting under a gnarled apple tree, the trunk so far twisted it had been propped up by a piece of old fencing.

God only knew why Aunt Babs had kept it out all these years. It wasn’t a great photo and the apple tree had long since died, blown over in a heavy storm. She couldn’t remember what year.

But she remembered the photo being taken. It had not been long after she’d first arrived and she’d been painfully shy. Scared, too. Very uncertain whether she’d be staying for a week or a month.

Kate reached out and traced her finger across Aunt Babs’s face. It had never entered her head then that she might be staying for good. That she’d finally found her home.

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