Page 69 of Second Chance Summer
‘No,’ she said, stricken with the guilt Elspeth was trying to assuage. ‘You’re right.’
Elspeth patted her arm. ‘Come on, let’s cobble together a not-perfect dinner and enjoy not being invited onMasterchef.’
Lily shook herself out of her mood. If she really wanted to change her life and honour Cara’s memory, wallowing in self-pity was not the way. Change should start now. She forced herself to enjoy the process even if she kept thinking that she should be cooking with her own mum – though her mother, Ailsa, was as big a fan of the ready-meal aisle as Lily herself.
Her parents led busy and fulfilling, yet fairly ordinary, lives. They’d always seemed very happy together, providing a loving home for Lily and Cara. There had been plenty of joy and happy times in the small Staffordshire market town they’d grown up in. It was a quiet place where nothing very exciting happened, but their modest home had always been full of laughter. Her parents had given Lily and Cara a stable upbringing and encouraged both their daughters to pursue their dreams, finding time to take them to their clubs, play games, console and celebrate with them.
Along the way, Lily had somehow lost sight of how precious time was – how precioustheywere.
That would all change, she decided, and was already looking forward to impressing her parents with her newfound culinary enthusiasm.
For now, while she chopped and fried, diced and measured, she shared Elspeth’s reminiscences of her younger days. It turned out that Sam had known her mother briefly – his great-aunt – when he was a young boy. Nate had too, and remembered her far better, being five years older.
Delicious aromas of onions and chicken filled the house by the time Sam returned.
‘Smells great,’ he said with a surprised look at Lily. ‘Can I help?’
‘We’ve done most of it now,’ Elspeth insisted. ‘Too many cooks and all that.’
‘I’ll lay the table, then. Where’s Morven?’
‘In her room, talking to her friends,’ Elspeth said. ‘Can you go up and tell her dinner will be ready in ten minutes?’
‘Yep. I’ll have a shower while I’m up there, so I’m fit for company after working on the cottages all day.’
Lily was dying to say ‘You look more than fit to me’, but kept her mouth firmly shut, and contented herself with innocently rinsing purple sprouting broccoli in the Belfast sink. The thought of him stripping off his shorts and T-shirt and stepping into a steamy shower was enough to send her temperature soaring.
‘I’ll give Morven notice now and check on her again after my shower,’ he said. ‘See you in ten.’
Lily had forgotten what hard work it was making sure all the elements of a meal for four were ready at the right time and served up hot. She’d also whipped up a hasty Eton Mess made with strawberries from Elspeth’s garden and some meringues left over from the café service.
‘The bakery makes them ’specially for us,’ Elspeth had said, handing over a paper bag. ‘There’s some cream in the fridge. Give it a quick whip and squish it all together. You can add a drop of the blackberry cordial on that shelf if you like. I made it last summer.’
With the Mess suitably squished and chilling in the fridge, Sam came downstairs with wet hair and his clean T-shirt sticking to his still-damp chest.
‘Morvenwillbe on her way any minute,’ he muttered, giving the impression that she’d been as difficult to shift as chewing gum from a pavement.
Although she wanted the family to be together, Lily was also nervous of Morven’s reaction to her over dinner. The girl was probably dreading their evening together even more than Lily was.
For the time being, she focused on carrying out the traybake to the table. The chicken was cooked beautifully, falling apart, dotted with melting mozzarella and asparagus that had turned crisp at the tips. It smelled divine.
‘Spuds!’ Elspeth barked, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes.
‘Yes, chef!’ Sam carried the tureen of new potatoes, scattered with mint, into the dining room.
Lily followed with a dish of broccoli and they were ready.
Elspeth brought out a large jug of elderflower cordial filled with ice and heaved a huge sigh.
‘Righty-oh. Let’s dig in … where is that girl?’
‘She’shere.’ Morven slouched in through the door, a pair of headphones round her neck. She sniffed. ‘What is it?’
‘Thought you weren’t coming,’ Elspeth replied.
‘I’m not hungry,’ she said, sliding onto a chair.
‘Then you can sit and watch us tuck in,’ Elspeth said. ‘Pass those spuds, please.’
