some muffins. Poppy made ’em this morning, thought you might want to see how they turned out. She’m a little gem in the kitchen, that one.’
We sat down at a table by the window. I felt an odd kind of torn pride: on the one hand my daughter was baking edible goods and clearly working hard at learning a new skill, but on the other hand – did it have to be waitressing and working in a kitchen? I looked up and caught sight of Poppy and Rory. She was piling a new load of buns under a glass dome, hair up and neatly uniformed, while Rory was wiping down a table on the far side of the café. They both looked content and I gave myself a talking-to. Okay, working in a kitchen wasn’t my idea of high achievement, but I absolutely was not going to turn into my mother and dictate to Pops what she should and shouldn’t do with her life. If she wanted to spend it turning out baked goods and wiping down woodwork, well, so be it. I’d just have to learn to deal with that.
Poppy looked up and saw us, then gave me a little wave. She called something over her shoulder to Rory, who looked over as well and smiled. Smiling did things to his face that showed what he’d look like in another few years, given a growth of stubble and a less bonkers haircut; he had a strong jawline and intelligent dark eyes and once he grew into his body he’d be a decent-looking lad.
I waved back.
Karen came over with coffees and settled herself into a chair. Gabriel got up.
‘I’m going to give Rory the pumpkins,’ he said. ‘And let you two talk. Don’t worry, Kaz, I’ll grab a bite and a coffee with the kids.’ And he sauntered off across the café, one pumpkin in each hand, like an ambidextrous spin bowler.
‘Hm, tact from our Gabe. He must be growin’ up.’ Karen’s eyes followed him across the wood-panelled interior. ‘He’s turned into a real looker, that boy.’
‘Mmm,’ I said, not wanting to incriminate myself.
Karen raised an eyebrow at me. ‘And you aren’t fooling nobody,’ she said, slightly tartly. ‘Just you watch out with that one – his heart is near the surface and a bit fragile.’
The incongruity of getting the mother-in-law talk from a woman my age made me suppress a little giggle. ‘It’s very early days for us, Karen,’ I said, trying to sound neutral. ‘We’re just feeling our way.’
‘Don’t you go feeling his way in those trousers.’ Karen glanced over at Gabriel, who was showing the pumpkins to an animated Poppy and Rory. ‘He’ll get arrested.’
We both gave a conspiratorial giggle. I absolutely wasn’t going to ask how much of Gabriel she had personally felt; no doubt that would come up in conversation at some point, but I wasn’t sure now was the time. ‘How’s Poppy been getting on?’ I sipped at the coffee.
‘Like I said, she’m a gem. Talking about going to catering college or summat when she leaves school.’ Karen gave me a small smile as though she’d read my thoughts. ‘I’m tryin’ to talk her out of it. She’s too good for this place. Rory says she’s gettin’ really friendly with that Sharon as does the costumes on set for Spindrift, as was helping them turn out their frocks for the do tomorrow. He says Sharon says that your Poppy has an eye for costume – make of that what you will.’ A quick look over at where Poppy had brought out something in a bag and was showing it to Gabriel; a swatch of scarlet fabric told me it was probably the dress that Gabriel had helped with. ‘Between him and her, you could find yourself up to your ears in hems and selvedge, whatever that is.’
I sipped again at my coffee. Karen was watching me from under hair that still hadn’t quite settled after the wind. She seemed to want to say something else but not to know how to go about it, and, as Karen seemed set to put ‘forthright’ on the map, I thought it must be something I didn’t really want to hear. She twisted her mouth around the rim of her cup, taking little jabbing sips like one of those drinking-bird toys.
Over at the counter Rory and Poppy whooped with laughter at something Gabriel said. I looked over and caught his eye for a moment. His face was relaxed