The Sweethearts Collection. Pam Jenoff

we go barefoot?’ he asked, grinning mischievously. ‘We might even risk a paddle later if you want, although the sea will be perishing, oh …’ his voice trailed off.

      ‘Why not,’ she replied brightly, ignoring his faux pas as she perched on a rock to remove her shoes.

      ‘Love the colour,’ he grinned.

      ‘Mara, the lady who took me in, bought them for me. I didn’t know until after she passed,’ she explained, letting out a long sigh.

      ‘Poor Colenso, so much sadness,’ he said, patting her shoulder. ‘But today is my birthday and my wish is for you to relax and enjoy it with me. Come along, we’ll walk down St Michael’s Way. Have you been across to the Mount?’

      ‘Yes, I saw the sun rise there at Litha – or the summer solstice, as Mara called it.’ She let out another sigh, remembering how the woman had told her to make a romantic wish at the magic rock. A fat lot of good that had been, she thought.

      ‘Oh, ye of little faith.’ The words were so loud that for one moment Colenso thought Mara was at her side. She shook her head.

      ‘Life is full of memories,’ Garren murmured, staring out to sea. ‘Still, as you haven’t been out recently, we’ll not go as far as there today, just settle for a gentle amble.’

      With the Mount ahead of them, they began walking, their toes sinking into the still cool sand. In the distance, she could see three large black lumps of rock.

      ‘That big one is Long Rock, for obvious reasons,’ he laughed. She stared at the elongated shape and smiled. They walked for another mile or so before Garren suggested stopping for their picnic. As they sat in the shelter of a cove, feasting on bread and cheese, they each began to open up about their past.

      ‘You mean Miss Chenoweth actually asked you to accompany her to a concert?’ she exclaimed.

      ‘Sinful, wasn’t it?’ he laughed. ‘And in the church hall as well. As soon as they moved next door, she made it plain she had plans, as she put it, to combine her epicurean establishment with my confectioners.’

      ‘You didn’t fancy the idea?’ Colenso asked, the reason for the woman’s increasing hostility towards her now becoming clear.

      ‘No fear. She’d have me wearing a starched collar and suit and offering my customers – or clientele, as she prefers to call them – violet and rose creams. Now, don’t misunderstand me, there’s nothing wrong with those confections but they’re hardly for children, which was her idea. Nasty, smelly little blighters is how she referred to them.’

      ‘But you love children,’ Colenso cried, recalling how patient he was with them.

      ‘Precisely,’ he nodded. ‘In fact, when I marry, it is my intention to raise a whole brood of them.’

      ‘And do you have anyone in mind?’ she asked. ‘Oh sorry, that was dreadfully rude.’

      ‘I did have but it turned out the woman I had in mind already had a follower.’ He said it lightly but was staring at her so earnestly, she had to turn away. ‘Of course, it’s much too soon for me to declare myself but maybe one day,’ he added quietly. ‘Now, come along, we’d best get back or Father will be wondering where we’ve got to.’ It could have been awkward on the walk back but he kept up such a flow of chatter about the sweets he was hoping to make for Easter that they were back outside the shop before she knew it.

      ‘I’ve had a lovely time,’ she told him, surprised to find that it was true. For a few hours at least, she had managed to put the tragedy out of her mind.

      ‘Me too. Perhaps we could repeat the experience,’ he replied.

      As she lay in bed that night, she thought back over the day. Garren had been good company, undemanding but attentive, and she could enjoy spending more time with him as long as he realized she wasn’t ready to take things further.

      For her heart belonged to Kitto, it always had, and although she’d accepted he was never coming back, she couldn’t envisage ever feeling the same about anyone else. In fact, she knew she wouldn’t.

Chapter 33

      ‘Sun, sea and sweets, what more can tourists ask for?’ Garren asked as the door closed behind another gaggle of happy children clutching twists of confections in their hot little hands. It was early summer, and the warm weather and longer days had brought the visitors flocking to the seaside town.

      ‘Laughter and lollipops,’ Colenso replied.

      ‘Lollipops?’ he frowned, hazel eyes thoughtful.

      ‘You said we needed to come up with a novel idea if we were to stay ahead of your competitors and I noticed how sticky the children’s hands get in this weather. When I was working on the Panam, we sold lollipops, and it occurred to me that sweets on sticks might prove popular with the visitors.’

      ‘That’s a splendid idea,’ he cried. ‘We shall make some as soon as we close. What particular flavour did you have in mind, Miss Carne?’

      ‘All sorts, Mr Goss. I can just picture the window now, a kaleidoscope of colour to stop the customers and tempt them in.’

      ‘If it looks half as good as the roses on your cheeks, then we will indeed attract a lot of attention.’ Although he said it lightly, the tone of his voice told her he meant it as a compliment.

      Their gaze met and held. Embarrassed, Colenso turned and began tidying the counter. They’d been getting on really well together and recently Garren had been treating her more like an equal than an employee. She sensed his feelings for her were deepening and, although she liked him a lot, there was still that Kitto-shaped hole in her heart.

      ‘Come on,’ he said, going over and flipping the sign to closed. ‘Let’s have supper and you can tell me about the other ideas you’ve come up with. And don’t say you haven’t, because I’ve heard that brain of yours buzzing away like a bumblebee,’ he added as Colenso opened her mouth to protest. Grinning, she followed him through to the workshop, not minding that a long evening of sweet-making lay ahead. As well as having to keep the stocks replenished, they needed to come up with new ways of attracting customers to stay ahead of the other confectioners in the town.

      Over plates of cold ham and pickles, they discussed various colour and flavour combinations.

      ‘Right, as this is your idea, you can choose the colourings and flavourings while I make the sugar syrup,’ he said as soon as they’d finished eating. A tingle of excitement, which she hadn’t experienced in months, ran through her as she looked along the little bottles, selecting orange, lemon, strawberry and even mint.

      ‘Mint lollipops? You have the strangest of tastes, Miss Carne.’

      ‘Or maybe I’m just more adventurous than you, Mr Goss,’ she quipped.

      ‘Is that so?’ he frowned. He returned to his stirring and was quiet for a few moments. Goodness, she hadn’t offended him, had she? Colenso wondered. But soon he was back to his joking self, and by the end of the evening the workshop was filled with the heady aroma of mixed fruits and mint, and the cooling tables lined with a rainbow of lollipops.

      ‘A job well done,’ Garren pronounced. ‘Any other bright ideas, Miss Carne?’

      ‘Yes, actually. I noticed how drab and dreary the paper twists look. If we are to complete with the other confectioners we need to address that. I believe I’ve mentioned the bright cones we used on the Panam. They were always well received by both children and parents alike and they would certainly stand out against the other confectioners’ plain bags. As it’s Sunday tomorrow, I could make some up and place them in the window.’ He shook his head. ‘Oh well, it was only an idea,’ she said, wondering why he was against it.

      ‘I was shaking my head about you doing it tomorrow,’ Garren explained. ‘Because