imagined Tilly living in a muddle, but although the room certainly had a relaxed feel to it, with a couple of comfortable old armchairs at the far end, he was relieved to see that it was clean and very well-organised. From what little he had seen of it so far, the whole house had a friendly, welcoming air.
‘This is a nice house,’ he commented. ‘There must be more money in cakes than I thought.’
‘Sadly not,’ said Tilly dryly. ‘This was my stepfather’s house. My mother and I moved in here when I was seven. Mum died when I was twenty, and Jack the following year, so the mortgage was paid off. We spent quite a lot of time at the hospice over those couple of years,’ she explained with a little sigh. ‘I suppose that’s why it means so much to me.’
‘How old were your brothers then?’
‘Only twelve,’ she told him. ‘Jack made me their guardian before he died so I could keep this as a home for them. We’ll have to decide what to do with it when they reach twenty-five. If they ever settle down, Harry and Seb may want to sell so they can buy their own places, but there’s no sign of them doing anything remotely sensible yet, so until then I’m happy to stay here.’
Campbell was watching her with a slight frown in his cool eyes. ‘Don’t you get a say?’
‘It’s not my house. Seb and Harry aren’t going to throw me out in the street, so it’s not as if I’m going to be destitute or anything.’
‘Still, it seems strange not to have made any allowance for you,’ said Campbell, surprised at how concerned he felt on her behalf. ‘I know you were just a stepdaughter, but presumably Harry and Seb are your half-brothers. You’re family.’
‘Don’t blame Jack,’ said Tilly loyally. ‘At the time it was the reasonable thing to do. My real father is still alive and has much more money than Jack ever had. Of course Jack assumed that I would be well provided for.’
‘And you’re not?’
Tilly looked away. ‘I asked my father for help after Jack died. We had the house, but most of Jack’s money was tied up in trust for the boys’ education, and I didn’t know how I was going to manage with day-to-day expenses.’
‘Surely your father didn’t refuse to help you?’
‘No, not exactly,’ she said. ‘He offered me a home, college fees if I wanted them and even an allowance, but he wasn’t prepared to take on the twins. I don’t think he ever forgave my mother for being happy with Jack,’ Tilly went on thoughtfully. ‘Even though he was the one who left us, for a new wife more in keeping with his oh-so-successful image,’ she added with a touch of bitterness. ‘Mum wasn’t supposed to be happier than he was after that.’
Campbell’s brows contracted. ‘So he made you choose?’
‘That’s right. I could be his daughter or I could be the twins’ sister, but I couldn’t be both.’ She smiled wryly. ‘At least it wasn’t a difficult decision to make!’
‘Wasn’t it?’ he said. ‘Not many twenty-one-year-olds would turn their back on financial support in favour of looking after two boys.’
‘What was I supposed to do? Walk away and leave them to bring themselves up?’
‘They must have had other family who could have looked after them.’
‘There was Jack’s sister, Shirley, but she was much older than Jack, and she’d never had any children. I’m not sure if she would have been able to cope with the twins, and it would have been awful for them, too. She was very strict and used to get terribly anxious about noise and mess, two things you can guarantee a lot of with twelve-year-old boys around!
‘They’d lost so much,’ Tilly remembered sadly. ‘First Mum, and then Jack. I was all they had. I wasn’t going to abandon them.’
She was watching the television crew moving around the kitchen, but the deep blue eyes were sombre and it was clear that she was lost in memories. Campbell found his gaze resting on her face, on the dark sweep of her lashes and the curve of her cheek. She had beautiful creamy skin, the kind you wanted to touch, to see if it was as warm and soft and lush as it looked.
He had thought about her much more than he had expected over the last three weeks. The oddest things would trigger a memory and he would be back on that hillside with Tilly. Campbell had been surprised at how vividly he could picture her, how precisely he remembered the scent of her hair, the feel of her squashed against him, the curve of that generous mouth and the sound of her laughter.
Most of all, he remembered how he had felt when he was with her. Her sparkiness had made him uneasy, and he had been torn between exasperation and feeling reluctantly intrigued by the contrast between her warm, sensuous body and her tart humour.
Looking at Tilly now, Campbell realised that there was a stubbornness and a strength to her, too. He could imagine her squaring her shoulders and bearing the burden of her young brothers’ grief as well as her own. It couldn’t have been easy looking after the two of them.
‘You were very young for that kind of responsibility,’ he commented.
Tilly shrugged, her eyes still on the cameraman. ‘Lots of girls are mothers before they’re twenty-one,’ she reminded him.
‘Not of twelve-year-old boys.’
‘Maybe not, but I just had to get on with it. People deal with a lot harder things every day.’
Yes, stronger than he had thought.
‘Still, it must have been hard. At twenty-one you should be off exploring the world, enjoying yourself, finding out what you really want to do with your life.’
She smiled slightly at his determination to feel sorry for her. ‘I know what I really want to do,’ she said. ‘I’m doing it now.’ She gestured around the kitchen. ‘I worked in an office for a few years. It was a dull job, but it paid the bills and meant I could make a home for Harry and Seb while they were at school, but when they went to university I could suit myself, and that’s when I decided to set up Sweet Nothings.’
Campbell was looking dubious. A cake-making business was all very well, but she was clearly an intelligent woman.
‘You didn’t want to do something more…?’
‘More what?’
‘More …’ He searched for the right word, and failed to find it. ‘… challenging?’ he suggested at last.
As soon as the word was out of his mouth, he knew he had blundered. Tilly was smiling, but there was a flinty look in her eyes.
‘No,’ she said levelly. ‘I love what I’m doing. How can one ask for more than that?’
Fortunately Suzy came over just then. ‘I think we’re ready,’ she said. ‘Tilly, can you show Campbell the kitchen and explain what he’s going to have to do for the camera, then we’ll leave you to get on with it. Have you arranged about the wedding cake, by the way?’
‘Yes, a friend of mine called Cleo has agreed to let Campbell make hers. She’s got a good sense of fun and she won’t be traumatised if it’s all a disaster.’
‘When’s
