Page 31 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

‘It’s my pleasure, catering for an afternoon tea is a piece of cake, pardon the pun.’ Liz unpacked the tub of scones, the carrot cake and lemon drizzle cake from her basket and began to arrange them on a tall glass cake stand.

Clare and Liz had made the cakes together this morning while Ivy was having a nap. It had been lovely having company in the kitchen again. And then Skye had arrived brimming with excitement about her new booking.

All of a sudden, what had felt impossible only twenty-four hours before somehow seemed possible. Skye had offered to come with her to the Delmarges, but Liz had declined. It would do Clare and Skye both good, she thought, to spend some time together and have a chance to catch up with each other’s lives.

‘I’m glad,’ said Patrick, pulling Liz back into the moment. ‘Because I think about you struggling across on the ferry, weighed down with all those tins of cakes and whatnot, and feel terribly guilty about it.’

‘There’s no need,’ Liz reassured him. ‘I’m a lot stronger than I look.’

‘I don’t doubt it,’ said Patrick. He cleared his throat. ‘Anyway, I wanted to you let you know how grateful I am. Mum and Auntie are always talking about me taking them for lunch in Salcombe, but the thought of trying to park and then get them both into somewhere: Auntie in her wheelchair and Mum with her walking frame – I wouldn’t even attempt it on my own.’ He shook his head at the idea. ‘You wouldn’t believe how long it takes to get them in the car to come here from the care home – and that’s with one of the staff helping us.’

‘Gosh, yes, I imagine it would.’ He had the patience of a saint, Liz thought, doing the bidding of two old ladies every Sunday when surely there must be other things he’d like to do occasionally. ‘Perhaps I—’ She stopped abruptly and closed her mouth.

It was on the tip of her tongue to offer to go with him, to help with the logistics, before realising that she was doing it again: forgetting her place. Of course he wouldn’t want her gatecrashing his family Sunday.

‘Yes?’ he prompted.

Liz set the cafetière on the tray. ‘Perhaps I could ask you to take in the cake stand?’

‘Oh.’ He blinked. ‘Sure.’

While Patrick poured the coffee, Liz served Camilla and Agatha with a slice of both cakes and a scone each. How they maintained their petite frames was a mystery to her, she mused, watching them tuck in with gusto.

‘Do you have anything exciting coming up this week, ladies?’ Liz asked, before they could ask her anything else.

‘No,’ said Agatha with an affected sigh. ‘It’s a dreary existence. Pass the jam, dear.’

Liz handed her the dish of strawberry preserve which she ordered specially from Fortnum & Mason for them.

‘Unless you count the monthly visit from the chiropodist,’ Camilla shuddered. ‘Which we don’t. What about you, Elizabeth?’

‘Rushed off my feet,’ said Liz. ‘We’ve taken on a lot of bookings and it looks as if I’m in for a busy summer.’

The job here was almost over. All she had to do was clear the kitchen, stack the dishwasher and pack her cake tins back in her basket. She smiled to herself, already looking forward to getting back home and spending the evening with the girls.

Patrick looked surprised. ‘I was rather under the impression that you were taking on less business these days, not more?’

So was she. Right up until Mike had asked her for his money back.

She smiled brightly, determined not to air any more dirty laundry in front of the Delmarges. ‘I changed my mind. I’m going to carry on for the summer and rethink in the autumn.’

‘I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,’ Agatha sniffed. ‘Or I shall get indigestion.’

Camilla patted Liz’s hand. ‘You are good, giving up your Sunday to serve us afternoon tea, especially when you’re obviously in high demand.’

Liz squeezed Camilla’s fingers. ‘Not at all. I very much enjoy coming here. Your son has a beautiful home, and besides, I like looking over the water at Salcombe. There’s a completely different view from this side of the estuary. I can see this house from my bedroom; I bet you can see mine from yours, Patrick.’

Agatha clasped a hand to her chest and sighed dreamily. ‘Do you hear that, Patrick? Elizabeth loves it here.’

‘I did hear, Auntie,’ he replied solemnly. ‘Because I’m right here. Thank you, Liz.’

‘Take her upstairs, dear,’ Camilla suggested. ‘Show her the view from the front bedroom.’

Agatha and Camilla looked mischievously at them both.

Patrick raked a hand through his hair. ‘Liz, do you—’

‘Another time perhaps,’ said Liz, doing her utmost not to blush again.