heart-shaped waffles, I want to know what they taste like.’
‘They taste the same as…oh, you’re winding me up.’ She was laughing as he poured batter into the centre of the waffle plate and closed the top. ‘Get ready for the perfect waffle, coming right up. I’ll keep it simple first – plain, with a bit of ice-cream on the side. Sure to be a crowd-pleaser. And, thankfully, I’ve been for a run and a walk today so I can get away with eating plenty.’
When the waffles were ready, golden and thick and easy to slide off the heated plates, Daniel put them onto a white plate from the stack in the cupboard, dusted the top with a little icing sugar and added a scoop of Christmas-pudding ice-cream while Lucy added a scoop of the cinnamon variety. She put her scoop right on top of the golden waffles to let it melt onto the warm surface.
‘Dig in,’ he said, handing her a fork.
They demolished the light, sweet waffles between them. ‘This one gets my seal of approval,’ she told him when there was nothing left on the plate apart from a smear where the ice-cream had once been.
‘The ice-cream is good.’
‘I was talking about the waffle,’ she smiled. ‘Take the compliment.’ When he nodded she realised he wasn’t used to doing that, and that in itself was endearing.
‘I’ll be adding a Christmas-gingerbread waffle to the menu ready for opening.’
She sucked in air. ‘Now, that sounds divine. What’s the recipe?’
‘Key ingredients will be cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg and I’ll serve it with maple syrup drizzled across.’
‘People around here are going to love you.’ Awkward she’d spoken out loud when those words possibly sounded a lot better in her head, she asked, ‘Any more festive recipes?’
He described a couple of the others, one with pumpkin spices, another red velvet – the perfect colour for Christmas. ‘So, what would you like to try next?’ he asked.
‘What? You can’t be serious.’ She put a hand against her stomach. ‘That’s quite enough for one night.’
‘Oh no, you committed to tasting, you’re not leaving until all that batter is finished.’
Her face fell.
‘I’m kidding,’ he laughed. ‘You’re off the hook. For now.’
She bit down on her lip, wondering if she was imagining his teasing, the suggestion behind his words.
‘I’ll put the batter in the fridge, we’ll take a break. How does that sound?’
‘Perfect. And maybe we can try smaller samples next.’ They’d gone a bit crazy with the ice-cream scoops and, with lots of combinations still to try, the only way she’d get through it was if they went a lot smaller.
He offered her a drink from the fully stocked fridge and with a bottle of water each they went to sit at the table right at the back, where they would be almost hidden if someone were to peer in through the window.
‘So, what happened to your fort?’ she asked him. ‘I assume it’s not still in the garden at Tumbleweed House.’
He laughed. ‘No, didn’t last long. A storm blew it down that night, but it did us a favour. We knew we’d have to clear it away before Dad came home from his business trip.’
‘He doesn’t sound a very nice man, if you don’t mind me saying.’
‘He wasn’t, and I don’t.’
‘I hate thinking of you and Harvey growing up that way.’
With a sigh he said, ‘It wasn’t so bad. We had good times – as I’ve proven, we’ve got some good memories.’
‘I’m pleased your fort wasn’t torn down,’ she smiled when he didn’t volunteer anything else. ‘What is it? I can tell you’ve got another story to tell.’ Please let it be a good one.
His face said it wasn’t. ‘The fort was gone but my dad found another way to get to me. Now, don’t laugh but I once had a tortoise…’
‘How is that funny?’
‘…called Speedy.’ He smiled when she covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. ‘Not sure why I named him that. But anyway. I’d had Speedy a long while; he lived in an outdoor shelter in our garden. It was the week after the fort blew down and Dad came home. He had the ride-on mower ready to go and I was yelling at him that he had to move Speedy, who’d gone walkabout away from his little house. Dad dismissed me and so I was running around the garden trying to find Speedy before the lawnmower did.’
‘Oh, God, please tell me you found him before he mowed the lawn.’
‘Dad did.’ His face