teased and didn’t care if she let her impatience show. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed I’m a grown woman. It was a figure of speech. You’ll be relieved to know that all that’s lurking in my sad cupboards are a couple of boxes of PG Tips.’
‘Ooh, someone put her grumpy pants on this morning – or was it a certain phone call earlier?’ Nick folded his arms and leaned against the wall.
‘It has absolutely nothing to do with flaming Sebastian Finlay. I’m fed up with the whole family treating me like a baby. I’m nearly thirty, for fu…’ She hesitated, as he frowned. If she actually swore, he really would go into a tailspin. ‘For flip’s sake. Mum and Dad fuss so and then bloody Jonathon and Dan join in. Cath and Gail both think it’s ridiculous how you all worry over absolutely flipping nothing. And you’re the absolute worst, coming over doing the big brother act. I don’t need it.’ She stood her ground, glaring up at him, her hands clenched by her side. Although it was tempting to flounce across the room and throw herself onto the sofa, it would look like a childish tantrum and she needed him to know that they were all driving her crazy. Maybe she was a bit hormonal today, perhaps a bit tired, but this had been brewing for a few months.
‘It’s only because we care,’ explained Nick.
‘I get that. I really do.’
‘But?’
‘I … I feel…’ The problem was she didn’t really know what she felt. Frustrated. Irritated. Weak. Going nowhere. Treading water. Sukie, her friend from work, the pastry chef, was off to New York. Her career was taking off. Nina didn’t even have a career let alone the opportunity to take off. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the experience, let alone the cooking credentials or qualifications, to apply for Sukie’s job. Nick wouldn’t understand and neither would the rest of the family. They were all content and happy, although she suspected sometimes Nick would have liked to leave the farm and widen his horizons a bit. Only Toby, four years Nina’s senior, had moved any distance away when he’d gone to Bristol to study to be a vet, and now he’d come back he was only fifty miles away, although that was at least out of range of daily scrutiny.
‘I know it’s hard being the youngest and the only girl and Mum and Dad do worry because you had a pretty rough start—’
‘Don’t you dare say it!’ Nina held up a hand.
‘What? That you nearly died when you were born? But it’s true.’
Nina buried her head in her hands. ‘Yes, and it’s history. You’d think I’d been at death’s door for most of my life. Apart from appendicitis and the usual coughs, colds, chicken pox, I’ve never been properly ill.’
Nick didn’t say anything.
‘Have I?’ she prompted.
‘No,’ he admitted with a grudging smile. ‘So I’m not going to get a tea or something?’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake.’ Nina did flounce this time, crossing to the kitchen area to flip on the kettle. It wasn’t as if she could go to bed yet, she was still waiting for the sponges to cool down before she could sandwich them together with the coffee cream and walnuts. ‘Oy.’ She rapped his knuckles with a teaspoon as he snaffled one of her freshly made scones and took a bite quickly.
‘Mmm, these are good.’
She ignored him as she made a quick pot of tea. There was something soothing about making it properly and it was a definite delaying tactic.
She brought the pot and, bowing to Nick’s bigger frame, a mug as well as one of her favourite vintage cup and saucers, over to the small round dining table to the left of the kitchen area. The open plan living area was perfect for one and she deliberately kept the number of seats around the table to a minimum. This was her bolthole and she’d made sure it was her space. She’d used pastel colours on the walls and bought pretty, delicate floral fabric to make curtains and cushions to stamp her feminine identity on the place. Being surrounded by four boys all her life had definitely influenced her décor choices. Growing up at the farmhouse, most things had been practical and robust. Colour had not been a significant feature. Jonathon and Dan’s idea of interior design had been to paint their bedroom walls in alternate black and white stripes to emulate their beloved Newcastle United.
‘Here you go.’ She pushed the mug of tea towards her brother.
‘So what’s brought all this on?’ asked Nick, his face softening in sympathy.
‘It’s been coming on for a while. I feel a bit stuck. Like I’m going nowhere and I’m never going to do anything.’
‘What do you want to do?’
Nina toyed with the edge of her saucer. It was a stupid idea. After all, she’d been there once and messed it up.
Of all her brothers, she was closest to Nick. Perhaps because they were both in the same boat.
‘Don’t you sometimes want to get away from here? Be on your own.’
Nick’s mouth twisted. ‘Very occasionally, I wonder if I’ve missed out. It’s not exactly easy to meet people round here. But I love farming and it’s not like I can up sticks and take the farm with me. And then I stand at the top of the fell and look down the valley, follow the curve of the drystone walls that have been there for centuries and I feel like I belong. It’s continuity.’
Nina looked up at him and gave him a gentle smile. He’d always been her hero, not that she’d dream of saying that to him. His head was plenty big enough already. For all his childish banter and teasing, he was a good soul who knew his place in the world.
She sighed, not wanting to sound ungrateful. ‘At least you’re useful. You have a proper purpose and a proper job.’
‘What do you want to do?’
Pulling a face, she traced the edge of the saucer again. ‘Get away for a while. Be me. Find out who me really is.’
Nick frowned looking confused.
‘Just now, I didn’t use the ‘F’ word because I knew you’d disapprove.’
Now he looked even more confused.
‘I feel like I’m treading water. I want … I want to cook properly. Not just make cakes and things.’
‘You want to be a chef? But you tried that before.’ He pointed to her. ‘You know, the raw meat thing. The, er, having a meltdown, panic attack thing. Didn’t you throw up as well?’
‘Thanks for reminding me, but what I didn’t realise then was that there are other specialisms that wouldn’t involve handling raw meat. I could be a pastry chef. Sukie, who’s off to New York is, was, absolutely amazing. She’s inspired me. You should see the things she makes. I … I…’ Nina stopped. She’d been trying a few things out at home, with varying degrees of success. It had been difficult at work to spend much time observing her former colleague, when she was supposed to be waiting tables, although Sukie had always been willing to let her hang around. She needed to be trained. Go on a patisserie course.
Ever since Sebastian’s call in the car, her mind had kept circling back to his announcement that he was running a pastry course. He needed legs. She had seven weeks free, well, almost. And surely Mum and Cath could find
