hoping Mason wouldn’t see how nervous she was.
‘Very weird,’ he said. ‘Good. But … it’s been so long. And when we were together, I was numb, really. I did care about her, but … I’ve blocked a lot of it out, or my mind has simply refused to let me remember the details. So it felt unbalanced, somehow. As if she’d held a lot more store in our relationship than I had. And tonight, she wanted to hear how things were now, what I’d been up to. She told me about living in Little Venice too, and asked about you, Claire and the other traders.’ He looked at the table, his brows knitting together. ‘I didn’t mean to be so long, but I didn’t feel like I could leave.’
‘Of course, Mason, it’s fine,’ Summer said. ‘Claire’s sorry it turned out this way – apparently Tania had planned to go away for the whole of December. She hadn’t expected her to be here.’
Mason looked up at her. ‘Tania said she needed to change her plans, that she can’t go and see her family until closer to Christmas. She apologized for springing herself on me – on us, like this.’
Summer nodded, wondering if she believed her. She wanted to, but there was something about Tania’s smooth smile, the way she had glided easily towards them through the pub, the look she had given Mason, that was putting her on edge. ‘Are you sure you’re OK with this?’ she asked. ‘Do you want to go back to Willowbeck? I’ll do whatever’s best for you.’
‘What’s best,’ he said, leaning across the table towards her, ‘is that we put this behind us now, and enjoy London. I’m not spending two weeks travelling all this way only to turn straight around. I need a few more days at least before we have to tackle all those locks again.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘I’m sure, Summer. It’s you, me, Madeleine and the dogs against London’s Christmas revellers. I’ve been looking forward to it, and I’m not going to let this put us off course. It wasn’t how I’d pictured our first night here, but I’m fine. I’ve wanted to talk to Tania for a long time. It was a conversation I needed to have, and now it’s done. But –’ He held her gaze, his dark eyes clouded with concern. ‘Are you OK? You’ve been so supportive tonight, looking out for me, giving me time with Tania. But after hearing so much about her, about the history we have, it can’t have been easy for you, either.’
Summer swallowed. ‘I’m fine,’ she said breezily. ‘Of course I am. I was worried – angry, on your behalf, but that’s all.’
He sighed, let go of her hand and in a moment was round at her side of the table.
‘Budge up.’ He forced her to scoot along the banquette and sat next to her, his eyes fixing on hers. They had a spark in them, and it was as if he’d come back to life, as if he’d shut the best parts of himself away while he dealt with Tania, and was only now letting them out again. ‘Don’t worry about Tania,’ he said, stroking her hair away from her forehead. ‘We’ve said all that we needed to. We’ve put the past officially behind us, and if she’s there at any point this week – and she told me she might be, while Claire’s here – then we’ll just get on with it. But I don’t want you to worry, about me, or about me with Tania. She is part of my past, and you, Summer, are my future.’
He kissed her. It was soft but passionate, and she pulled him closer, holding onto him tightly. She didn’t want to admit to herself – and definitely not to Mason – how much seeing Tania had scared her, how ungrounded she’d felt while the other woman had Mason’s full attention. His kiss and his touch were bringing her back to life, too.
‘Shall we go and see how Archie and Latte are getting on?’ she asked, once the kiss had ended, their faces close, the snug bar seeming to shrink around them. She had a lot of baking to do between now and opening time, but that seemed unimportant now that she’d got Mason back. She hadn’t lost him, not literally, but for a couple of hours her whole world had shifted, and she needed to right it again. Mason was the best way of doing that. Luckily, he seemed to agree with her.
‘Yes,’ he murmured. His fingers traced a line slowly and deliciously down her neck, making her tingle, then he scooted backwards, out of the booth, and held his hand out for her to take. ‘Let’s go home.’
Summer dragged herself out of bed before dawn, her limbs stiff and weary after the previous day’s cold journey, followed by an afternoon working in the café. Mason was asleep, his curls in disarray on the pillow. She was reminded of Ryder’s dig at him, which she’d seen as a compliment. She was more than happy with his Byronic curls, could understand why he’d been propositioned at the hatch yesterday, and why someone like Tania would have been attracted to him. Who wouldn’t?
Even their local boatbuilder in Willowbeck, a huge, burly man called Mick, had fuelled Summer’s doubts when she was first getting to know Mason by referring to him as Lothario. When she’d got the explanation out of him, it was because everyone – even unapologetically heterosexual men like Mick – could see he was a catch, not because he spent his nights taking scores of different women to bed.
She left Mason sleeping, took the handful of clothes she’d left out the night before, and snuck out of the cabin. She couldn’t spend her day ogling her boyfriend; she had to put her focus into the café. It wouldn’t be long before the punters started banging on the door for coffee and bacon sandwiches.
She dressed hurriedly, prepared breakfast for Archie and Latte, who were still blinking awake on the sofa, and boiled the kettle. With an instant coffee slowly waking her up, she got to work. She took some of Harry’s chocolate and mince pie twists out of the freezer, and prepared the mix for a batch of Christmas brownies with chunks of hazelnut and glacé cherries, and three trays of her festive-flavoured macarons. She’d bought a batch of floury baps from a bakery at their last stop before Little Venice, but would need to find a new supplier while they were here, so she could continue to make bacon rolls.
She opened the door into the café, letting the luxurious smells waft inside, and switched on the coffee machine. The towpath lamps glowed, but the canal was dark. At this hour, even Claire’s boat had no lights on, no wintry soundtrack drifting out of the speakers.
Summer stood, clutching her coffee mug, and soaked it all up. There was something mesmerizing about the early morning, the water a black nothing, lapping gently against the sides of the boat. She switched the Christmas tree lights on and they punctuated the dark with soft, rainbow colours. Latte and Archie, fed and watered, pattered into the café, exploring it, checking for any new smells that had appeared since the day before. Summer crouched and stroked her Bichon Frise, and Latte let out a squeak of delight.
‘This wasn’t a mistake, was it?’ she asked her dog. Tania, and the effect the encounter had had on both her and Mason, played on her mind. He had said that it wouldn’t ruin their trip, and it was up to her to put it aside, to make the most of being in Little Venice. But Tania was going to socialize with them, and she couldn’t imagine there wouldn’t be any lingering awkwardness.
Latte looked up at her adoringly, and Summer smiled. ‘You’re right,’ she said, with more conviction than she felt. ‘Everything’s going to be fine.’
She returned to the kitchen and checked on her bakes. She lined up the next lot of trays, cleared up and filled the dishwasher. Daylight made a slow, sleepy appearance, a streak of lighter sky showing above the buildings, the landscape of Little Venice being revealed as if from behind a theatre curtain. It was
