Spring Beginnings. Georgia Hill

literary festival. I’ve been rushed off my feet.’

      ‘Well, it’s good that you’ve been busy. Have you finished for tonight?’

      Millie thought of the batch of Bakewell tarts she should get in the oven and of the apricots she needed to soak before making another four lots of the tray bake.

      Jed filled in the gap left by her hesitation. ‘If you have, may I suggest getting some supper in the White Bear? I hear their food isn’t too bad.’

      ‘The food in there is lovely.’ Millie hopped from one foot to the other. She was freezing. Her nose was like ice. The thought of hot food in the company of an even hotter man was tempting beyond belief. Tessa’s words from the other night reverberated. Since when did she have gorgeous men asking her out to eat? Since when had she had some fun? Sod it, she decided, the customers would have to make do with scones tomorrow and she had some tea bread she could defrost. Some nice salty farmhouse butter would make it special. ‘I’d love to,’ she smiled up at him.

      ‘What about Trevor?’

      ‘Oh, he hasn’t eaten either.’

      Jed laughed. ‘That wasn’t quite what I meant. Do they allow dogs in the White Bear?’

      Millie nodded, as much to keep warm as to answer. ‘Oh yes, in the public bar, anyway. It’s cosy in there too; they’ll have a roaring fire going.’

      ‘Sounds perfect. Shall we?’ He held out an arm and Millie took it. ‘Let me,’ he added and relieved her of the books. ‘Perhaps we can dissect Herman Melville some more?’

      ‘Blimey, could we not?’ Millie, very aware of how close he was, giggled. She leaned nearer, thinking that he smelled heavenly. She breathed in spice and lemon. It wasn’t dissimilar to the cardamom lemon-drizzle cake she made sometimes.

      ‘Maybe stick with Gaskell, then?’

      They retraced her steps back down the hill, the sleet now at their backs, making their passage easier. Unusually cold weather aside, Berecombe looked beautiful. White lights strung across the narrow shopping street blew gently in the salt-laden breeze coming off the sea. Most shops had closed by now but had kept their window displays lit against the deep indigo of the night. It was postcard pretty.

      Millie was overcome by a wave of affection for her home town. She’d never lived anywhere else and had never wanted to. Never needed to. She’d had everything she ever wanted here. Until recently. Risking a glance at Jed’s profile, she wondered how long he was going to stay around. With his long upper lip and sharp cheekbones, there was definitely something of the Eddie Redmayne about him. He was posh-boy gorgeous. She breathed out a white cloud of hot breath in longing.