The Way We Were_ A Novel - Marcia Willett [17]
She whirled away, leaving Val holding the flowers and wondering if she should say that she didn't have the time to go off for lea just because she fell like it; but Liv had already gone into the shop and wouldn't have heard her.
Having seen the exchange, Chris tensed slightly as Liv came in. He wondered if Val had been tactless – or even just plain rude. Liv gave no sign of any altercation; she smiled at Debbie and raised her eyebrows at Chris.
‘Learning to cook?’ she asked. ‘Aunt Em loved the cakes, Debs. She says she'll be over to see you soon.’
Debbie looked pleased. ‘I like your Aunt Em,’ she said. ‘We sold one of her paintings this morning. Did Val tell you? Gary's ill and Myra's had to go and fetch him from school. Chris is helping out.’
‘Shit!’ said Liv. ‘Poor Myra. Never mind. I'll carry on here, Chris, if you want to get on.’
‘I'm rather enjoying it,’ said Chris. He was relaxed again: relieved that Val hadn't challenged Liv and made oddly happy by her presence, which both comforted and energized him. He realized with a shock that he wouldn't want to be tackling this project without her; that she was necessary to him. ‘I like meeting the punters,’ he said. ‘But I ought to be in the office, I suppose. End-of-month accounts and the VAT return.’ He made a face. ‘It's more fun in here.’
‘Tough,’ said Liv firmly. ‘You know that Marx thing? To each according to his need. From each according to his ability. You do the accounts because of your ability and Debs and I eat cake and chat because of our needs.’
‘What about my needs?’ he demanded indignantly.
Debbie laughed. ‘He's already had some cake,’ she told Liv. ‘And as for chat,’ she rolled her eyes expressively, ‘you should hear him with some of the customers, especially a couple of girls who were in just now.’
‘Too much information,’ said Liv severely. ‘Go on, Chris. Back to the treadmill.’
He shook his head mock-complainingly and went away.
‘He's nice, isn't he?’ said Debbie, watching him cross the yard. ‘Great legs. It's a pity Val doesn't lighten up a bit. She makes real hard work of it.’
‘It's early days,’ said Liv placatingly ‘Bit scary for her till it's all up and running properly. She'll be fine when she sees it's going to be OK.’
CHAPTER THREE
2004
After Liv had gone, Em pottered for a while in her greenhouse; tweaking up some weeds, pinching off unwanted leaders, thinning out a tray of seedlings. She relaxed in the humid warmth, liking the sensation of the crumbly earth between her fingers, and snuffing up the sharp, green, vegetal smell. All the while she was thinking about Liv. There had been a luminosity about her, as if she'd been lightly dusted with a glittering of happiness. Liv was usually good company; quick with a jokey response, intuitive, ready with some amusing little anecdote about her life. Yet this morning there had been an extra quality that had made the simple act of drinking coffee and eating cake a celebration.
The obvious deduction was that Liv was in love. Pleased with this idea, Em began to invent the scenario, allowing her romantic imagination free rein; she pictured a handsome fellow coming into the café for coffee, chatting with Liv. coming back the next day. He might invite her to go for a walk on the cliffs, or to the pub for a drink, or to Rick Stein's. Perhaps he'd be a bit older than Liv, late thirties, mature but not stuffy. He'd been in a long relationship (no children), which had now fallen apart – not his fault, of course – and he was looking for a career change. Em fretted over this point for a while: he mustn't be unstable nor yet a stick-in-the-mud, and she couldn't quite decide what career he might pursue in Cornwall. Liv didn't want to leave Cornwall. Em pictured the handsome fellow: dark-haired, not over tall, with a nice twinkly sexy appeal.
Realizing that quite unwittingly she'd cast Chris in the role of this desirable man, Em put down her little watering pot and went into the courtyard, sitting down again at