Rosaline Palmer Takes the Cake (Winner Bakes All #1) - Alexis Hall Page 0,81
long breath. “Bit daft, if I’m honest. I’m trying to do more things what scare me.”
“And going on a baking show scares you?”
“Oh yeah. Gotta be on TV. Gotta talk in front of cameras. Gotta wonder what my mates think. It’s all my worst things.”
“If your friends are that bad, they’re not your friends.”
“They ain’t. I mean, Terry is. But mostly I just get in my head about what people are going to say. And they never do—well, hardly ever, except Terry—only it keeps going round and round anyway.” Joining her at the table, Harry brushed away the last fish finger crumbs. “So I thought, Fuck it. You like baking, go on the baking thing. Did not expect to get this far if I’m honest.”
“You’ve done really well,” she offered.
“Cheers, mate. I reckon I’ve got another week in me at least.”
Rosaline wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. And so she found herself watching him, half enjoying having someone to talk to who wasn’t either her child, her ex-girlfriend, or a man she was trying to impress, and half confused because Harry was never quite who she expected him to be. Or maybe he was, but it meant something different than she’d thought it would. “You . . . you seem to worry about things a lot.”
“Yeah. Always have. It’s just how I am. My dad’s the same.”
This wasn’t her business. But it wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned feeling like this, and ignoring it—especially when he kept doing things for her—felt wrong. “Have you considered maybe seeing your GP?”
“You what?” He laughed. “You want me to go see my doctor and be like, I get scared sometimes.”
“Well, I mean—I’m just going by what you’ve said. But I think there might be . . . things out there to help you?”
“What you saying? That I need to see a shrink?”
“Would that be so terrible?”
He stood abruptly—and tall people standing abruptly was not Rosaline’s favourite thing in the world. “Yeah it would, mate. I’m not mental.”
“I don’t think you are.” She slid her chair backwards slightly. “Look, I know you think my dad’s a dick, but what he’d say in this situation is, ‘If you had a bad back, you might take up walking or you might go to a chiropractor or you might go to your doctor for a painkiller, and those are all options. And you’re already doing things to make this better for yourself, which is great, but it’s also okay to ask for help.’”
“Yeah, but I don’t need help. I’m fine.”
“You told me you went on national television to try and get out of your head. And that’s brave. But it’s probably not the most effective thing you can do.”
Seeming genuinely upset, Harry pushed a hand through his hair. “I’m not having this. I know you think I’m common, and that’s fine ’cos I am, and I don’t read Shakespeare, I don’t forage, and my dad’s not a doctor. But I’m not standing here while you tell me you think I’m a nutcase.”
“That really wasn’t my—”
“I think I’d better go. Thanks for the fish fingers.”
From her seat in the kitchen, she heard his footsteps in the hall, the clank of his toolbox, and the soft thud of the door closing behind him.
And that, Rosaline, is how you take something nice and fuck it up beyond all recognition.
Saturday
“I MISSED YOU last night,” said Alain, leaning over her shoulder.
“Sorry. I was late getting in. My whole week got thrown off because of the electricity.”
“I did say you’d be welcome at mine.”
Rosaline—who hadn’t slept especially well and was pretty certain she’d fucked up her blind bake—turned sharply. “Still got a kid, Alain.”
“I know, but you have to think of yourself as well.”
“To a point. But it does eventually become criminal neglect.”
“No one”—he gazed at her sincerely—“could deny what a devoted mother you are.”
“Thanks. Sorry. I’m just stressed.”
He smiled. “Well, perhaps later I can help you unwind.”
Honestly? She wasn’t sure she needed unwinding in that particular way. At least not right now. She’d been running around like a blue-arsed fly since Tuesday, still felt nebulously guilty about upsetting Harry, and was definitely on track for a low-performing week. Put it all together, and it was the kind of situation where the solution was Put your feet up and have a cup of tea, not Do me hard from behind. On the other hand, she wanted Alain to think she was a vivacious sex kitten, not a tired single mum scared