The Little Paris Patisserie. Julie Caplin

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of her grown up sons having left home in varying degrees they continued to treat the kitchen as their own, which Nina’s mother just adored. None of her offspring had strayed very far. Nick, older than her by two years, lived in the farm cottage across the courtyard and helped Dad with the farm and the sheep. Still single, he seemed in no hurry to find a wife and was taking his time checking out potential candidates.

      ‘Sit down. You must be starving. Where are Dan and Gail? They’d said they’d be here five minutes ago.’

      ‘Mum, it’s Dan. It’s guaranteed he’ll be late for his own funeral,’ said Nick, giving her a quick peck on the cheek as he unwound his scarf.

      ‘Don’t talk about things like that,’ she shuddered. ‘They were very busy in the brewery and the farm shop today. Had a coachload in from North Wales. Poor Cath.’ Nina’s mother, Lynda, shot a sympathetic look at Nina’s sister-in-law sitting down at the table slumped over an empty cup of coffee. Cath, who was married to her second oldest brother Jonathon, one of twins, lifted her blonde head and gave Nina a pathetic little wave.

      ‘It was mental. We ran out of scones and coffee and walnut cake. Honestly those OAPs are like locusts. You’d think they hadn’t had a square meal for days. The cupboards are bare.’

      Her mother gave Nina a worried half-smile.

      Nina groaned as she slipped off her coat. ‘Don’t worry, as soon as I’ve had dinner I can knock up a batch of scones and make a quick cake. I can do the buttercream in the morning.’

      ‘Oh darling, you’ve just got in from work. You must be shattered. I’m sure Cath can manage for a day.’

      Nina caught Cath’s quick eye-roll. ‘Mum, it won’t take long.’

      ‘If you’re sure, dear.’

      Thankfully, her eldest, by five minutes, brother Dan came barrelling into the kitchen pulling his wife Gail along by her hand, the door swinging wildly on its hinges as the two of them came in giggling.

      ‘Hi guys, the favourite child is here,’ boomed Dan. His wife gave him a quick poke in the ribs.

      Suddenly the noise in the kitchen increased tenfold as Jonathon and her father appeared from the hallway. Chairs scraped on the flagstone floor, beer bottles chinked as a handful were retrieved from the fridge, the crown caps dispatched quickly with a firm flip to rattle on the side, while Dad set to work with a corkscrew and there was the satisfying pop of a bottle of red wine being uncorked. Seamlessly, everyone took their seats, a variety of conversations erupting around the table. Nina slipped into her place, next to her mum at the head of the table.

      ‘Are you sure you’re alright to make the cakes? I could get up early and make a batch of scones to tide Cath over.’

      ‘Mum, its fine honestly.’ She’d caught the quick look exchanged by her sisters-in-law and then Gail had winked at her. ‘Once I’ve had dinner, I’ll get my second wind.’ It was only a couple of cakes for goodness’ sake – and it would give her an excellent excuse to escape the usual bedlam here and have some peace and quiet in her own little flat over the old stable block, without anyone worrying about her being on her own.

      Her mum firmed her lips and turned her attention to the casserole dishes on the table.

      ‘Jonathon, you’re dripping that spoon everywhere.’

      ‘Oh Jonathon!’ chorused Dan, immediately taking the opportunity to tease his twin. The rest of the male contingent joined in.

      ‘Dan, don’t you want more than that?’

      ‘See, favourite child.’ Jonathon pointed his spoon at his brother, quickly remonstrated by his wife.

      As always, it was like feeding time at the zoo but Nina was relieved that the attention had moved away from her. She managed to stay under the radar until the very last scrapings of the large casserole dish on the table while Dan and Jonathon bickered over who was going to get the last piece of lamb.

      ‘So what’s happening with this car of yours, lovie?’ her dad asked.

      ‘It’s still in the garage. They couldn’t get the part but they’re hoping it will be in tomorrow.’

      ‘It’s going to take more than a part to fix that thing.’ Her mum shuddered. ‘It’s a death trap.’

      Nina muttered under her breath, but no one heard her because they’d already pitched in with their own views on her car. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her little Fiat.

      ‘Mum, you don’t need to worry about Nina in that thing, she can’t pedal fast enough to get into any trouble,’ teased Nick.

      ‘A sewing machine’s got more power,’ chipped in Dan.

      ‘I do wish you’d get something a bit more sturdy. I worry about you getting squished by a bigger car.’

      ‘Ma, you don’t need to worry, Nick’s truck would go straight over the top of it.’ Dan, having won the battle over the lamb, dropped his knife and fork with a clatter on the plate.

      Mum shuddered again. ‘That’s even worse.’

      ‘I love my car, leave it alone,’ said Nina. She missed it desperately at the moment because she was so reliant on lifts from everyone else.

      ‘Tom in the pub’s wife is selling her car. I could take a look at it for you, if you wanted,’ said Dad. ‘It’s a Ford. They’re good reliable cars. Don’t cost much to run.’

      And as boring as hell, thought Nina.

      ‘Oh, that’s a good idea, darling,’ her mum added.

      Nina was about to say something calm and sensible like, ‘As I’m about to pay for the repairs, it’s probably not the best time to think about buying another car’, but she’d had about enough of them all thinking they knew what was best for her. Honestly, they still thought of her as the baby of the family. So instead, she jumped up, glared around the table and yelled, ‘I like my car as it is, thank you very much!’ before grabbing her coat and storming off out through the back door to her flat.

      As she slammed the door behind her it was rather satisfying to hear the shocked silence reverberating around the table.

      When the soft knock came at her door, as four sponges were cooling on the rack, she knew it would be Nick. Despite the fact he nagged her the least, he was the most protective of all her brothers. Part of her wanted to ignore him and pretend to be in bed but she knew that her uncharacteristic outburst would have already caused a stir, and if she didn’t answer the door, he would keep knocking.

      ‘Yes?’ She opened the door a couple of inches making it clear she didn’t want company.

      ‘Just checking you’re alright.’ His cheery grin held a touch of strain.

      Feeling guilty, she opened the door wider. ‘I’m fine.’

      ‘Just fine?’ He took a step into the open plan studio flat, shutting the door behind him.

      ‘Yes, just fine.’ She sighed. ‘Do you want a cup of tea or something?’

      He

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