Least Said (6 page)

Don’t
read
too
much
into
it,
I
told
myself.
Even
brown-eyed
parents
often
had
blue
eyed
kids,
because
every
child
was
a
mass
of
DNA
inherited
from
a
multitude
of
ancestors.
I
found
knowing
that
didn’t
help
and,
when
I
finally
fell
asleep
in
the
wee,
small
hours
it
was
recalling
how
often
people
commented
on
how
tall
Will
was
for
his
age.

I
woke
to
find
Jon
standing
over
me
with
a
cup
of
tea,
which
while
it
wasn’t
unheard
of,
was
extremely
rare.

‘To
what
do
I
owe
this
pleasure?’
I
forced
myself
to
joke,
knowing
I
looked
and
sounded
like
hell.

‘You
had
a
bit
of
a
disturbed
night,
if
the
way
you
were
tossing
and
turning
and
muttering
in
your
sleep
was
anything
to
go
on.’
Jon
set
the
mug
carefully
down
on
the
bedside
cabinet
before
putting
a
hand
on
my
forehead,
and
asking
in
a
sympathetic
tone,
‘What’s
up?
Feeling
a
bit
under
the
weather,
or
has
a
difficult
job
come
in?’

‘Whatever
makes
you
ask
that?’
I
pulled
myself
up
in
bed
and
tried
not
to
sound
too
anxious.
Hearing
that
I
was
talking
in
my
sleep
was
making
me
feel
decidedly
nervous.
‘Was
I
moaning
about
multiple
tiers
and
icing
consistency
or
something?’

‘Oh,
I
couldn’t
make
out
a
word
you
said,’
he
dismissed
carelessly,
and
turned
to
pull
back
the
curtains
while
I
sagged
back
against
the
pillows,
weak
with
relief.
‘Now,’
he
went
on,
‘don’t
rush
to
get
up
–
I’ll
take
Will
to
school.
He’s
just
finishing
his
breakfast.
Are
you
sure
you’re
ok?’

‘Must
have
been
that
sandwich
I
ate
before
coming
to
bed,’
I
dismissed.
‘It’s
my
own
fault
because
I
know
cheese
gives
me
nightmares.’

‘Well,
I
sometimes
eat
onion,
knowing
full
well
that
I
shouldn’t,’
Jon
said.
‘A
little
bit
of
what
you
fancy
does
you
good,
but
sometimes
I’m
afraid
you
have
to
pay
for
it.’

I
knew
he
was
only
trying
to
make
me
feel
better,
but
he
couldn’t
have
put
it
in
a
worse
way
if
he
had
tried.

The
job
I
was
working
on
that
day
was
a
wedding
cake,
but
I
wouldn’t
call
the
work
difficult
–
in
fact
the
more
intricate
the
design
the
more
I
enjoyed
working
on
my
creations.
The
business
that
I
ran
single-handedly
was
making
celebration
cakes.
I
had
made
the
decision
to
make
the
change
when
Tina
moved
away,
rather
than
accept
her
generous
offer
to
take
over
her
existing
business.

I’d
learned
a
lot
from
my
time
working
with
Tina.
I’d
joined
her
not
long
after
she
started
her
catering
business
providing
home
cooked
meals
for
those
who
either
hated
cooking
or
simply
didn’t
have
the
time.
She’d
been
a
single
mother
at
the
time
and
working
from
home
suited
her
perfectly.

In
those
long
ago
days
Jon
was
the
one
who
had
kitted
out
Tina’s
garage
as
a
working
kitchen
to
cope
with
her
expanding
work
load.
He’d
had
his
own
small,
but
well
established
business
fitting
kitchens
back
then.
It
was
when
Tina
confessed
it
was
getting
to
the
point
when
she
could
really
do
with
some
help,
that
he’d
suggested
me
for
the
job.
We
started
as
neighbours,
became
colleagues
and,
eventually,
the
best
of
friends.

Around
the
time
I
became
pregnant
with
William,
the
father
of
Tina’s
by
then
teenaged
daughter,
had
reappeared
in
their
lives.
They
rekindled
their
romance
and
finally
became
a
family.
It
made
sense
for
them
to
move
to
London
because
that
was
more
central
for
Calum’s
thriving
literary
agency
and,
unsurprisingly,
Tina’s
business
had
proved
to
be
even
more
of
a
hit
with
the
busy
folk
in
the
capital
than
it
had
in
the
tiny
town
of
Brankstone.

By
then,
as
a
result
of
receiving
an
offer
he
couldn’t
refuse
to
buy
him
out,
 
Jon
had
opted
for
the
security
that
comes
with
working
within
a
large
company.
Always
conscientious,
he
had
worked
his
way
steadily
up
through
the
ranks
until
he
was
offered
a
partnership.
He
and
Kerry,
the
boss’
daughter
I
had
thought
he
was
having
the
affair
with,
were
now
co-owners
of
the
massively
successful
business
and,
like
Tina,
we
had
moved
on
and
up
in
the
world.